


Long Road to Hell

by Little Dipper (Tox)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bill Redemption, Dipper Has PTSD, Gen, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, Slow Burn, Triangle Bill Cipher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 21:46:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 75,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7700893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tox/pseuds/Little%20Dipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's almost been four years since that fateful summer, and the Pines are trying to move on with their lives. There's just one problem - Bill Cipher isn't really gone. Trapped in Stan's mind, Bill must make a deal with Dipper to escape his prison and make it back into the real world for Weirdmageddon 2.0. As it turns out, however, Bill Cipher is more than he seems, and Dipper is determined to make the best of a bad situation by trying to truly understand the entity that was willing to risk the entire universe for the sake of a party. Bill is determined to stay on his path to destruction, but can the child of the stars change his course for good?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fate

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been planning a fic like this since right after "Not What He Seems" aired, and it's come a long way since then. What began as a Dark!Dipper story has turned into a Bill Redemption Arc, and I only hope this new idea will be as captivating as the original. I hope you all enjoy - I love you, Billdip fandom!

" _Nruter yam I taht rewop tneicna eht ekovnt I! Nrub ot emoc sah emit ym, Ltoloxa!_ "

A fist. Collision. The disintegration of his form, and in turn, his mind. Nothingness. The deepest abyss he had ever come to be a part of. Non-existence.

Then a light - no, a _mist_. Swirling, blowing, coming towards him, enveloping him. His eye was open again; how long had it been closed? Mere moments? Years? Centuries? He couldn't tell, couldn't possibly know. In the oncoming cloud a figure began to take shape before him.

"Rehpic Mailliw," greeted a massive, floating Axolotl. He stared at it for a moment, confused, then rubbed his eye with both hands. The Axolotl remained before him.

"Uoy s'ti," he replied, hesitant in his words. Why was he speaking like this? "Nrub ot emoc sah yllaer emit ym neht."

"Mailliw, etiuq ton," said the Axolotl. "Revo morf raf si emit ruoy."

His mind felt cloudy. What the creature was saying didn't feel true - couldn't be true. But... Why? He felt like he couldn't remember. He could hardly remember who he even was. The words tumbling out of him felt like nonsense, and he wasn't entirely sure why he was saying them.

"Em ekil dnuos t'nseod taht... Mailliw," he said.

The Axolotl tilted its head at him. "Eveileb I, Llib referp ouy."

And in a rush, it all came flooding back - every moment, every triumph, every failure of the past hundreds and thousands of years. The destruction of his home, his wandering through the universe, his entrapment within the dream realm, the people he inspired, the things he couldn't do, the discovery of Stanford Pines and his technical prowess at the heart of Gravity Falls, his untimely outing as a demon, chasing Stanford through the Nightmare Realm, being resummoned after a short thirty years, _Weirdmageddon_ -

He was Bill Cipher.  

For a moment, Bill felt the urge to laugh - he had himself back! But the feeling was snuffed out by the realization of where he was, of who he was talking to. He _didn't_ have himself back; on the contrary, he had _nothing._ And he was about to lose even that.

Except...

"What do you mean, 'my time is far from over'?"

The Axolotl smiled at him. "Oh, good," it said. "You remember now. I knew it would catch up with you."

"Don't change the subject," Bill growled. "What did you mean by that? Isn't this the end? Isn't this where you send me back as something else to atone for all my sins?"

"Perhaps, but this isn't the end at all," replied the Axolotl. "Far from it. The device created by Fiddleford McGucket was indeed of great power, but it never had the ability to complete erase anything. Only split it into fragments and hide it away."

Bill narrowed his eye in confusion and annoyance. "Okay, so what does that _mean_?" he asked. "Am I not dead? Am I..." He trailed off in confusion. There was only one possibility he could think of if he wasn’t dead. The last place he’d been…

The Axolotl nodded.

"Yes," it said. "You are within the mind of one Stanley Pines, and you have been for almost four years. Your consciousness was a scrambled mess within his own lost memories, and I was unable to use any of it to contact you. But he has begun to remember you. And so, you have begun to piece back together."

“...I don’t believe it.” Bill floated backwards, one hand pressed to the space just above his eye. "I'm alive," he said, more to himself than to the Axolotl. "I'm alive... And I'm inside a human host!" Laughter bubbled out of him like a spring geyser, quickly turning maniacal as he turned towards the sky - or space - or whatever was above him. Then he returned his gaze to the Axolotl and pointed a defiant finger at it. "And there's _nothing_ you can do about it!"

As the great creature stared at him with its pitch black eyes, reflecting back on him everything he’d ever done, Bill began to falter.

"...So why did you bring me here?"

“To give you a chance, William.”

Bill gave the Axolotl a look of disbelief and floated towards it again. “First of all, don’t call me that,” he said. “Second, _why?_ And what kind of chance is this? If I fail are you gonna kill me for good so you can turn me into a turtle or something?”

“I doubt a turtle would be able to atone for the misdeeds you have committed,” said the Axolotl. “As for why, it is because I have compassion for all things. I would not harm you, nor would I hinder your efforts. I only seek to give you a chance to right your wrongs before your fate catches up to you.”

“My _fate?_ What fate is that?”

The Axolotl turned its head away from Bill, and the mist began to clear, showing the vastness of space around them.

“The fate you chose the day you destroyed your home dimension.”

Bill raised a hand, ready to speak in his own defense, when a blinding light distracted him. He threw his arm over his eye to shield himself, then carefully lowered it as the light subsided. Where the Axolotl was looking now shone a brilliant cluster of stars, a distinct constellation with shining lights between each point. It was _Ursa minor,_ one Bill was well familiar with in his travels through the universe. Though the way the beams of light connected the stars…

“The Little Dipper?” Bill asked, incredulous and confused.

The Axolotl turned to him once more, its pink skin now highlighted by the stars, black eyes glimmering. “The key to everything you seek, and everything you need, lies within the child of the stars,” it said. “He holds power he knows nothing of, power that a being such as yourself could unlock. And in turn, he could unlock new things within you…”

Bill gave the Axolotl a disgusted look. He remembered enough about his enemies to know who the ‘child of the stars’ had to be. “You’re telling me that Pine Tree is…” He stopped for a moment and looked back at the constellation. The powerful twin was _Mabel_ , wasn’t she? Bill had to lock her away, had to make sure she was guarded and impossible to get. Then again… Dipper was the one who had freed her. But that alone didn’t indicate any sort of hidden power, did it? All the same…

Dipper was close to Stanford. Stanford was the one to contain the original rift. Dipper shared his interests, his goals… And to have a chance at a brilliant mind like that again, someone who could really _do_ things in the real world on Bill’s behalf…

“...The key to everything,” he said, his eye upturned in glee.

The Axolotl nodded. “Yes. And you will need him, for the barrier between the Nightmare Realm and Gravity Falls grows thin after your attempted apocalypse. Weirdness is flooding into the town at increased levels, and soon it will encompass more than just Gravity Falls. A tear in the fabric of reality may spell doom for the entire universe.”

Bill gave the Axolotl his most thoughtful look. “I see, I see,” he said. “So what you’re saying is… I use the kid to tear a hole into the Nightmare Realm, then start Weirdmageddon 2.0!” He cackled in delight. “With that kid bound to me by whatever deal I can get him to make, I can’t be beat! Thanks, Ax! You’re a real helper!”

The Axolotl seemed unfazed. “You choose your fate, Bill Cipher,” it said.

“My fate is gonna be sitting pretty on _your_ throne,” Bill said with a jab of his finger. “You think you know everything, huh? Wait ‘til I’m back in power! My reign will _never_ end!” He laughed again, then pulled his cane into existence and twirled it around his fingers. “For a God, you sure are stupid!”

His laughing died down and came to a stop as the universe around him began to fade, stars and galaxies going dim and disappearing before his eye.

“You choose your fate,” the Axolotl repeated. “Will you choose differently this time? Or will you remain on the path of destruction?”

“I already _told_ you -” Bill grasped his cane tightly and furrowed his brow as the mist began to fade out with the stars. Even the Little Dipper was going away, bit by bit. “Hey, knock it off! I’m talking to you!”

“Ylesiw ti esu. Nruter nwo ruoy dekovni ouy,” said the Axolotl as it began to disappear into blackness.

“I’ll see you again soon, Ax!” Bill yelled into the space between them. “And you won’t be prepared!”

Then it was gone, and there was nothing but a deep, unsettling darkness.

Yet in that darkness, Bill Cipher was _alive._

* * *

Stanley Pines jerked awake in the darkness of his bedroom, covered in a cold sweat and breathing heavily.

The feeling of solid ground beneath his feet was alien at first; he and Ford had only docked ship a week prior in anticipation of Dipper and Mabel’s arrival. In just a few more days, the twins would be back in Gravity Falls, sixteen and ready to drive their Grunkles into twin heart attacks. It was an exciting time, just like every summer; but as Stan shambled his way to the bathroom, he wasn’t feeling as psyched up for it as he had been before.

“That damn nightmare again,” he said into the mirror as he ran cold water over his hands. He splashed his face, shook his head, then turned the faucet off. “Freakin’ creepy triangle guy… I don’t even remember the apocalypse! Why I gotta remember _you_ all of the sudden?”

The only reason he knew it was a memory and not just a dream was because he had offhandedly told Ford about the first nightmare, when the triangle man turned into some sort of pyramid-beast and chased Dipper and Mabel away from where he could save them. Ford had been very worried, had explained that the triangle man was the big bad guy they had erased his memory to defeat. Ford was afraid that the nightmare meant the triangle man could somehow manifest in Stan’s mind for real.

Sounded like a bunch of bull, in Stan’s opinion.

So he didn’t tell Ford about the other nightmares - even the really vivid ones that seemed too real, the ones that had to be memories. No use worrying his brother about something as silly as bad dreams. His memories were coming back, so what? At his age, he felt _lucky_ to have a good memory.

Stan glared into his mirror for a moment. His eyes didn’t look right in the dim lighting - there was almost a glow to them. But when he tried to focus, it seemed to vanish, and he was just looking at himself. His dreams were just putting him on edge… that was all.

“Just a stupid nightmare,” he mumbled as he headed back for bed.


	2. Making a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper has issues. Unfortunately, they're about to get a lot worse.

Dipper dropped his suitcase on the floor of the attic and stretched his arms up towards the ceiling. “Man! It’s always crazy on the first day!” he said with a tired laugh.

“If by crazy, you mean the best thing ever!” Mabel countered as she flopped onto her bed. Waddles jumped up next to her, snuffling excitedly at the blankets. He loved coming back to Gravity Falls just as much as the twins; it was his home, after all.

Dipper took off his trapper hat - the same one Wendy had give him nearly four years prior - and sat down on his bed. “Yeah, I love getting mobbed as soon as I step off the bus,” he said, rolling his eyes but smiling all the same. “If only people back home responded the same way, am I right?”

Every summer vacation since 2012 was a vacation to Gravity Falls. It was home away from home for the Pines twins, and the whole town was always happy to see them again - especially their friends, and most of all, their twin Grunkles. It had easily become the highlight of each year, no matter what happened during school; nothing could beat going back to the weirdest place on earth. Dipper always had more paranormal investigations to go on, and Mabel always had fun projects to do, whether with her friends or Dipper or even just herself and Waddles. They both loved it more than anything.

And yet…

Dipper looked over at the triangle-shaped window that overlooked the front yard and frowned. “Ugh. I really wish they would remodel this place,” he said, same as he’d said last year, and the year before that, and the year before that.

Mabel sighed and took her hair out of its ponytail so she could fling the hairtie at her brother. He gave her an annoyed look as she said, “How long are you going to hold a grudge against triangles, Dip? They’re one of the most basic of all shapes!”

Dipper picked the hairtie up and held it over three of his fingers, forming a triangle with it. “Probably forever,” he admitted as he stared at his fingers. “I still have nightmares.” The comment was casual and quiet, as if he were admitting something perfectly ordinary.

Of course, Mabel already _knew_ about the nightmares. She heard her brother yell out in the night and saw how tired he looked in the day. She had seen him flinch when people laughed too loud - or too maniacally. She saw the sketches in his notebooks of the frightening beast Bill had become when he chased them through the halls of the Fearamid. Her brother was prone to anxiety, and Weirdmageddon (or more specifically, _Bill Cipher)_ had pushed something deep inside of him over the edge - had left lasting psychological scars that he just couldn’t shake no matter how much time passed them by.

But rather than comment on any of that, Mabel changed the subject in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I can’t wait to drive Grunkle Stan’s car,” she said as she looked through her bags to find a hairbrush. “He was such a good teacher last year.”

Dipper looked up, then dropped the hairtie onto his nightstand. “Mabel, he was trying to teach us how to break traffic laws. That’s not good. Like, at _all._ ”

“Aw, come on! We didn’t get in trouble!”

“That’s totally not the lesson to be taking away from that.” Dipper shook his head and leaned back to kick off his shoes. “You take after him way too much, Mabes.”

“Oooh, sorry I don’t take more after Grunkle Ford, Mr. Smartypants!”

“Now now, that’s nothing to be sorry for.” The twins both turned to the doorway where Ford had silently appeared, looking for all the world like he'd been there the entire time. “We all have our own quirks, dear. How are you two settling in?”

“We’re good, Great Uncle Ford,” Dipper replied with a smile. Mabel nodded in agreement, and Waddles snorted.

“Good, good!” Ford looked down at the floor, then back up at the twins, his expression becoming strained as he struggled with the words he was searching for. “I… hate to do this as soon as you two arrive, but there’s something I need to talk to you about,” he said.

Before Dipper could ask what it was, Mabel interjected, surprising him and Ford with the force and emotion of her outburst.

“Is Grunkle Stan okay?!” she asked, her voice tight in a way that suggested she might cry at any moment. Dipper was shocked - how long had she felt that way? “He didn’t look so good at the bus stop and _you_ drove us here and he went right to bed and -”

“Stan is fine,” Ford interjected. “He’s just tired, sweetheart. I put him through a lot.”

Mabel visibly relaxed. “Oh… okay. Good.” She smiled, a bit shaky but much more composed, then picked up the hairbrush she had found and began to brush her hair. “So what is it you wanted to tell us?”

Dipper's mind was still on her reaction to Ford's initial announcement. Was Stan really acting all that different? He'd been too caught up in asking Ford how things had been was they drove back to the Shack. He supposed it _was_ like Mabel to notice in his stead. Yet for him to not notice how worried his sister was...

“It’s about the town,” said Ford as he stepped further into the room, pulling Dipper's attention back to him. “And… the Nightmare Realm.”

The name was sudden and unexpected, forcing Dipper's heart into a race as his fingers tightened on the bedsheets.

“You mean that place Bill opened up during Weirdmageddon?” Mabel asked as she set her brush back down.

“Yes, the very same,” said Ford. “I’ve been there, and it’s no picnic, I assure you. And alternate dimension though it may be, it has always had an effect on Gravity Falls, as the barrier between our worlds is rather thin.”

“That’s why Gravity Falls is the way it is,” Dipper said in a flat tone. “We know that.” Or at least he thought he knew it. In the third journal, it was written that  _Bill_ was the one who told Ford that the dimension he was opening a portal into was the cause of all the weirdness. Bill was a well-known liar, but judging by the look on Ford's face, Dipper had a feeling that this particular tidbit was true.

Ford clasped his hands together and sighed. “Yes, well,” he continued, “what you _don’t_ know is that the barrier is weakening, thanks to the events of Weirdmageddon.” He looked between the twins for a moment, taking in their expressions - both shocked, Dipper angry on top of that - and went on. “You’ll remember that Bill tore a hole through the dimensions to bring his… _friends_ here to party with him. I thought that the damage done was completely reversed when we defeated him, as evidenced by everything returning to normal, but…”

Dipper shoved himself up off of the bed and stood tall, shoulders squared and fists clenched at his sides. Mabel and Ford both looked at him in surprise as he said, "How do we fix it? I'll do whatever it takes, Grunkle Ford."

“I’m afraid I don’t know yet,” Ford replied with a helpless shrug. “You see, Stan and I have been out at sea for most of this past year, and I didn’t realize that Gravity Falls was experiencing a resurgence of weirdness until about a month ago.” He gestured vaguely outwards and rolled his eyes. “And because of this town’s _Never Mind All That_ act, I can’t talk to any of the townspeople about the fact that their lives may be in danger! Even Mayor Cutebiker won’t listen to me. All we can do is try to come up with a plan and see if we can shut this thing down.”

“Dipper’s great at making plans!” exclaimed Mabel. She honestly wasn’t too thrilled at the thought of her brother being engulfed with _weirdness_ for too much of their vacation, but at the same time, she knew he could solve this problem in no time flat. “I bet you two will have this barrier thingy worked out before the week is over!”

Ford chuckled and put his hands on his waist. “I sure hope so, Mabel.”

Dipper, however, didn’t seem so convinced.

“We’re gonna need a lot of power,” he said as he began to pace between the two beds in the room. “It takes so much just to open a portal between dimensions - it has to take just as much to close one, right? Maybe some kind of reverse-engineered portal… Portal _gun_ maybe…?”

“Now now, Dipper,” Ford cut in. “You only just got here! The barrier will hold for… some time, I believe. We don’t need to go rushing into anything just yet.” He stepped forward and put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “I just thought the both of you should know the state of Gravity Falls, and what we’ll be dealing with this summer… should you choose to help me, of course. I do have Stan now, and you and Mabel -”

“Of course I’ll help you!” Dipper interrupted. “This is serious!” He turned to his sister with a pleading look. “Mabel, is it okay -”

“It’s fine, Dipstick,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I’ll just spend time with Candy and Grenda while you and Grunkle Ford save the universe or whatever.” She smiled, then, and motioned to the grappling hook laid neatly on her nightstand. “If you need any help, though, just let me know!”

“Of course, sweetheart,” said Ford. “Now why don’t you two finish getting settled in?” He clapped Dipper’s shoulder and shook it affectionately. “You’ve got a long summer ahead of you!”

Dipper smiled, but it was half-hearted and quickly faded. “Yeah… guess we do,” he said.

Ford nodded, seemed about to speak, then changed his mind and turned around to leave. The twins both watched him go, Dipper forlorn, Mabel somewhat worried.

“...You gonna be okay, Dipster?” Mabel asked.

Dipper put a hand to his forehead and brushed his bangs back, revealing his birthmark for a moment before his hair flopped back into place. “...Yeah. I’ll be fine,” he said. “I just… I need a drink or something. Do you want anything?”

Mabel shook her head and put a hand on Waddles. “No, I’m good. I’ll just finish unpacking.”

Dipper nodded, then turned and walked out of the room on legs that weren’t quite steady. His mind was racing as he went.

Bill was _gone._ He had to remind himself of that as he walked through the Shack, the old floorboards creaking under his feet. Even if the Nightmare Realm blended with reality, there would be no Bill Cipher. Those other horrible monsters from Weirdmageddon could reappear, and maybe they would want the same things Bill did, but _there would be no Bill Cipher._ And anything was better than having to deal with _him._ Through the haze of nightmares and flashbacks the last several years had offered, Dipper had gained a newfound contempt for Bill, more than anything he'd actually felt when the demon was still alive and an active threat. He was a plague on Dipper's mind even in death - somehow that made him all the more infuriating.

As he walked down the stairs and headed for the fkitchen, Dipper found his mind wandering back to an old thought that resurfaced every so often when he thought of Bill and the events of that fateful summer. It wasn't a thought he particularly _liked,_ but one that puzzled him all the same. All the other monsters he’d faced, from terrifying ghosts to surprisingly-threatening gnomes, he’d managed to _understand._ The gnomes wanted a queen. The ghost wanted justice for what had happened to him and those like him. The Summerween Monster wanted to be eaten. Giffany wanted someone to love her and only her. Strange or terrifying as all their reasonings were, they could be _understood._

Bill… wanted to party. And was willing to risk tearing the fabric of the universe apart to do it.

Even accounting for the eventual degradation of the Nightmare Realm as written in Journal 3, none of it made any sense.

Dipper shook his head and opened the fridge, revealing a plentiful supply of Pitt Cola that had surely been stocked with him and Mabel in mind. As he reached in to grab one, he could hear the sound of Soos giving some grand speech about one of the exhibits at the front of the Shack. He’d been at the bus stop to greet them, of course - in his full Mister Mystery getup, just like the first time they’d come to see Stan. He then re-opened the Shack as soon as they arrived back, and apparently, tourists were already coming in. The Summer rush was only just beginning.

It was nice that Soos enjoyed his job so much, Dipper thought as he took a swig of his soda. With Melody now living in town and Stan happy to live in the Shack and still let Soos take on the role of “owner” (with Ford’s permission, of course), Soos was living his dream. It made Dipper happy knowing that such a good guy had gotten what he wanted out of life.

And it was certainly nicer than thinking about Bill.

As Dipper closed the fridge and prepared to head back up to the room, he was surprised to see Stan standing in the doorway, looking a bit confused.

“Grunkle Stan,” he greeted after a start. “I thought you went to bed. Are you okay?”

Stan looked at him for a moment, then waved a hand dismissively at him. “I’m fine, kid,” he said. “Just thought I’d come get something to drink. What, you worried I’ll keel over on you or something?”

Dipper laughed and moved out of the way of the fridge. “You just seem tired, is all,” he said as Stan ducked down to get a soda. “Is Grunkle Ford still taking you on hikes?”

“Not right now,” Stan said as he cracked open the can. “We’ve been out at sea, fightin' monsters, exploring old ruins… the usual. I’m just gettin’ old, I guess. Get tired pretty easy.” He took a sip of his drink and then motioned towards Dipper. “What about you, Dipper? You been keepin’ active? Any better at that left hook yet?”

“Mabel’s better at it than I am.” Dipper took another swig of his soda, then looked back to the doorway, in the direction of Soos’ voice. “So do you ever get back into the old Mister Mystery act? Or is it all Soos now?”

Stan shrugged. “Eh, I’m more of a Senior Mystery now. Haven’t worn the old getup since we got back here. Been too busy preparin’ for you kids. Besides, he’s got it handled by now.” He sighed, then. “Still dunno how to feel about his girlfriend workin’ the register, though. Don’t get me wrong, she’s fine at it, but…”

“You miss Wendy?”

Stan chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he admitted. “She’s doin’ good work with her dad, but I miss havin' her here. Even if she never did anything useful besides make you light up like a Christmas tree.”

Dipper ducked his head a little as his cheeks flushed. Even after all this time, he still had his impossible crush on his impossible girl. It wasn’t as bad as it had been when he was a kid, but when she looked at him... his heart still went crazy. He was ashamed to still carry that torch after so much time had passed, but what could he do? Wendy was amazing in every possible way. He was grateful for their friendship, but he suspected his heart would always yearn.

“So you got yourself a proper girlfriend yet?” Stan asked as he sat down at the kitchen table.

“Uh, no,” Dipper replied, his face going even redder. “I mean, I had some promising… almost-dates when the last school dance came up… But, uh, they found better guys.”

“Every year with this,” Stan said as he lightly thumped his fist on the table. “You gotta have confidence, Dipper! You gotta…” He paused and looked blankly at the floor for a moment, then shook his head.

“Grunkle Stan?”

“Sorry,” said Stan. “I just… I don’t feel too good. I probably should head back to bed.” He laboriously got up from the chair, cracked his back, then grabbed his soda and shuffled towards Dipper. With a firm grasp on Dipper’s shoulder, he said, “You and I are gonna talk about girls later, though, okay?”

“Sure thing, Stan,” Dipper said with a roll of his eyes as Stan patted his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll get a girlfriend _this_ summer.”

“Sure you will! Confidence, Dipper!” Stan gave Dipper a good thump on the back, then turned to leave the kitchen, hunched over and grumbling to himself.

Stan acted like an old man, but Dipper knew he was still in his prime, just like Ford. Or at least he had been before… He _did_ seem really tired now. But it was possible he just hadn’t been sleeping well off of the boat. Within a week he would be back to his old self again - or his newer self, now that he and Ford adventured together as much as they did. It had done a lot for Stan, getting him into better shape and giving him more reasons to stay active (though he still walked with that horrible hunch when he was around the house).

As if on cue, Stan stopped walking at the doorway, then stood up perfectly straight.

Dipper raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Grunkle Stan?” Was there something Stan had forgotten to say to him?

Stan was silent as he stood still in the doorway. Then he turned, slowly, and walked back into the kitchen to set his soda down on the table. He did so with a surprising amount of force, and Dipper jumped in response. Was Stan _angry?_ What did he have to suddenly be angry about? Had he remembered something bad?

“Stan? What’s up?” Dipper asked, wary and ready to leave the room.

Stan turned to look at him, and he was… smiling. Smiling _wide._

“Well well well,” he said in a voice that wasn’t his. “ _Pine Tree.”_

Dipper’s soda clattered to the ground, spilling all over the wooden floor as the can rolled around his feet. The silence around it was deafening as it came to a stop just underneath the counter, leaving a perfect arc of bubbling liquid on the ground.

“That’s not funny,” Dipper said, his voice shaking as he backed into the fridge. “That’s not fucking funny, Stan. Cut it out.”

His mind was going a million miles a minute as his heart beat even faster than that. It was a joke. A cruel, horrible joke that Stan thought was funny. It _had_ to be. Even if Stan hardly remembered who Bill was, or what he'd done. And the eyes - the horrible, cat-like eyes - just a figment of Dipper's terrified imagination. Bill Cipher was dead. He was _gone._ They had risked it all to destroy him and he was never coming back, _ever._ Especially not like this, not so sudden, not so _soon_ -

Stan continued to smile. “I’m disappointed, kid,” he said, still in that horrible, _horrible_ voice. “You were there for what happened! You know he doesn’t remember enough about me to try and _be_ me.” He began to advance on Dipper, who was pressing himself more and more against the fridge, frozen in place by his own terror. “But he does remember _something._ And, see, it's funny - when you exist in the Mindscape, a memory's all it takes.”

“No,” Dipper choked out as he tried to will himself to run, to yell, to do _something._ “You’re… You’re messing with me, Stan,” he said. “It’s not funny. I’m - I’m gonna call for Ford -”

“And tell him _what?_ ” Stan asked. “You think he’ll believe you when Old Man Mackerel Head here doesn’t remember a word of what you’re saying? I didn’t have to remove him from this body, not like I did with you. Oh no. We’re _sharing_ it, thanks to Sixer. His mind is just sleeping away right now, completely oblivious to what’s happening!”

Dipper found the handle of the fridge with a shaking hand and gripped it tight. “You’re not real,” he said. “You’re not… this isn’t _real._ I’m, I’m dreaming, or hallucinating, or, or -”

“He could remember you. He could remember Sixer. What on this great big ball of dirt makes you think he never would have been able to remember _me?_ ”

Finally, Dipper’s legs unfroze, and he bolted away from the fridge. His goal was to get to the doorway and keep running, but in his panic he’d forgotten about the soda he’d spilled, and almost immediately he slipped in it and began to fall. Strong hands - _too strong_ \- gripped both of his arms to stop him from hitting the ground and dragged him back to his feet. Dipper struggled and tried to yank away, but he was only pulled closer, until all he could look at were Stan’s eyes.

 _Bill’s_ eyes.

“I’ve been waiting about a week for you to finally show up,” Bill said as he held Dipper in place. “I thought you’d be more excited, Pine Tree - what’s with all this _fear?_ ” He laughed, but not loud - he was intentionally making it so no one else would hear them. “I gotta say, it’s pretty entertaining - but it’s not what I expected outta you!”

Dipper’s breath was coming in shallow gasps as he tried to look anywhere but into Bill’s eyes. Every nightmare of the past four years was flashing before his eyes, every terrifying moment of Weirdmageddon - and in the midst of his own panic, he felt like a _failure._ To so utterly fall before an enemy he once stood up to, an enemy he once had every confidence he could beat… The passage of time had worn on him. The _nightmares_ had worn on him. Constant visions of the end of the world, memories of standing up to Bill and being thrown back into the dirt, feeling hopeless at the prospect of saving his sister, saving _Ford…_ All because of _Bill Cipher._ A horrible creature that was supposed to be  _dead._

In a panicked frenzy, Dipper struggled again and managed to break free of Bill’s grasp. He jumped back and away, his fists clenched and raised as sweat dripped down his face. If he couldn’t flee, he would _fight._

“Feisty,” Bill commented with a chuckle as he folded his arms behind his back.

There was a long pause between the both of them as Dipper struggled to breathe and Bill contemplated him with a smug look plastered across his - across _Stan’s_ \- face. Time felt like it was slowing to a crawl. Dipper could still hear Soos in the front room, talking to a tourist about another one of their attractions.

 _Maybe if I stall him long enough,_ Dipper thought, _Ford will come in here and see what’s going on before Bill has a chance to leave. Maybe_ he _can stop this._

He swallowed hard and braced himself against what he had to do, his fists shaking.

“What… do you want?”

Bill’s eyes seemed to light up. “Oh, glad you asked, Pine Tree!” He walked slowly over to the counter, eyes on Dipper the whole way. “You’re actually just the man I need to talk to about this. You see, I don’t really wanna be in this guy’s mind. I’d much rather be somewhere more… how do I put this… _powerful._ ”

Dipper eyed Bill warily, his eyes flicking to the drawers and back to his possessed uncle’s face. Bill was getting close to the knife drawer. _Too_ close. Would he have gleaned its location from Stan's mind?

“As it turns out,” Bill went on, “the kind of power I need just so happens to be inside _you._ ”

Dipper narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“Oh, believe me, I didn’t think it was true when I heard it,” Bill said as he leaned against the counter, right over the knife drawer. “But apparently you’ve got a lot of potential locked away in that meatsack of yours. And I need that potential if I’m going to get anywhere.”

“What are you doing?” Dipper asked as Bill opened the drawer and reached inside.

“Just giving you an incentive to strike a deal with me, Pine Tree. I have a sneaking suspicion that you need to be _coerced._ ” Bill pulled out one of the serrated steak knives and turned it over in his hand, admiring the way it glinted in the light. “We don’t want ol’ Mackerel Head having an accident, now do we?”

Dipper listened for the sound of someone coming to the kitchen, but all he could hear was Soos and the tourists in the front room. Mabel had to still be unpacking, and Ford… Who knew what Ford was up to. It was possible he’d gone down to the basement to study more about the barrier. Which meant even if Dipper managed to yell for him, he might not hear…

“What kind of deal?” Dipper asked, his voice shaking.

Bill shook his head and twirled the knife in his hand. “Why the long face, kid? This is a great opportunity for you! You get something you want, and I get something I want!”

Dipper took a heavy breath and let it out slowly. The effort it took to remain composed was draining. “First of all,” he said, “there’s nothing you have that I want. And second - Last time we made a deal, you didn’t hold up your end _at all_.”

“Didn’t I?” Bill pointed the knife at Dipper and grinned. “You made a deal for a hint, kid. And last I checked, you found out that Spectacles was Sixer’s assistant. How did you do that, exactly?”

Dipper looked away from the knife and Bill’s horrible smile and thought. The first clue… it had come from the laptop, hadn’t it? _Property of F._ The label that had come off after Bill had destroyed the rest of the machine. Had he actually _meant_ to do that? Was he really so obligated to the deals he made that he had to fulfill them, even if it was indirectly? Was that what he was implying?

“Look, kid, we’re running out of time here,” Bill cut in as he turned the knife around and pointed it at Stan’s chest. “I’m more than happy to keep getting into _accidents_ with this body if that's what it takes, but you don’t want that, do you?" He chuckled and waved the knife. "Think about it. He wakes up bleeding, with you the only other person in the room? How would that look? Let's make a  _deal,_ kid."

Dipper held up his hands as if to stop Bill from using the knife, then lowered them and clenched them into fists again. So that was the game. He would hurt Stan if Dipper took too long, and Stan would think... What  _would_ he think? Would he really assume Dipper had done it? Or would he think he was going crazy and hurting _himself?_ There was little time to think on it. And yet...

This was a unique opportunity. The chance to name his own price with a somewhat-better understanding of how these deals worked. 

“What’s _your_ end of the deal, Bill?”

“Glad you asked.” Bill turned his head, as if he heard something, then looked back at Dipper. “I want access to your mind, kid. And then, I want you to help me get back into the real world, and together, we open the barrier between here and the Nightmare Realm.” He held out his free hand. “In exchange, you don’t have to watch your Uncle here go to the ER. Deal?”

“No.”

The smile vanished. Dipper could feel his blood going cold as Bill stared at him, surprised and a little bit angry. “No? Pine Tree, do you realize what’s at stake here?”

Dipper swallowed and looked Bill in the eye. “I want… I want more,” he said. “If you’re gonna be… inside my head, I want a better deal.” His thoughts raced as he said it - he didn't even know what he wanted. What could he ask that Bill would even agree to? He didn't have enough time to consider it, didn't have the counsel he needed to go over his options... What could help him the most? What could make the nightmare easier?

The smile returned, and Bill pointed the knife at Dipper again. “So you’re a shrewd businessman now, huh? A man after my own heart. What do you want, kid?”

A word popped into his head.

“Honesty.”

Bill’s smile faltered, but didn’t go away. “Excuse me?”

Dipper tightened his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he thought about what he'd just blurted out. “I want you to be honest with me,” he said, trying to sound confident. Every word felt like knives coming out of his mouth. “About... everything. What you’re doing, how you’re feeling, what you’re planning. Complete transparency.” There had to be a million other things he could have come up with, but that was what he had. And maybe it could help; maybe, if Bill were forced into being transparent, Dipper could formulate a plan around what he would learn. 

Now Bill was starting to look uncomfortable, but he was doing his best not to show it; Dipper could tell. He knew that look on Stan’s face. “I threaten to maim someone you love, and you ask for me to be honest,” he said. “To be _honest,_ Pine Tree? I’m surprised. But we can get into more of that later.” He splayed the fingers of his outstretched hand and wiggled them. “So do we have a deal?”

The knife was pointed at Stan’s chest again. Dipper looked between it and the hand he was offered, his heart pounding out of his chest. Was that it? Did Bill really agree to his insane bargain? And was it _worth_ it? Looking at the knife, he knew it had to be, for Stan's sake.

He extended his own hand, his arm shaking, sweat coating his palm. He didn’t want to do this. He _had_ to do this.

Dipper bit his lip, steeled himself, and grasped Stan’s hand.

In no time at all, a blue flame appeared over both of their hands, then left Stan’s and wound itself around Dipper’s wrist and forearm. He struggled not to cry out as the flame - painless and cool on his skin - zipped up his arm and flashed before his eyes.

A tense moment passed as Stan shook his head and came to.

Breath ragged and limbs quivering, Dipper spoke, trying his best to appear less rattled than he really was. “Grunkle Stan?”

Stan looked at the knife in surprise, then down at their interlocked hands, then over to the spilled soda on the floor. He seemed to be trying to take it all in, and Dipper wondered what he could possibly be thinking. It had to be frightening to not remember _anything_ like that. And to wake up holding a knife to yourself...

“...Uh, good job, kid,” Stan said, sounding unsure as he shook Dipper’s hand.

He really didn’t remember. Dipper offered him a smile, then pulled his hand back; it slipped out of the grip easily because of his sweat. “Sorry,” Dipper muttered as Stan looked down at his hand in disgust.

“God, you’re sweaty,” he said as he set the knife down on the counter and looked around for his own soda. “Did, uh…” Stan faltered, seeming unsure. “...What were we just talking about?” he asked after a moment.

“...Girls,” Dipper said. It was the first thing he could think of. “We were… talking about my lack of confidence. And girls.”

“Oh.” Stan still seemed puzzled, but somewhat relieved as well. “I thought… Uh, nevermind. I must be more tired than I thought.” He shook his head, then went to the kitchen table to grab his soda. “I’m gonna head back to bed.”

“Good idea,” said Dipper with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “See you later, Grunkle Stan.”

Stan nodded, then shuffled away, muttering something under his breath. As he moved down the hall, Dipper could hear him bump into Ford and say something about ‘being in that damn lab all the time’. So Bill must have heard Ford leaving the lab when he turned his head…

_Girls! Ahaha! Nice save!_

Dipper froze in place as the voice rang in his head, loud and clear and terrible.

 _Get used to it, kid,_ Bill said delightedly. _We’re gonna be headmates for a while! Now why don’t you clean up that mess you made while I root through your brain? I wanna know what all this_ fear _of yours is about._ A pause, then, _Check that out! I’m already being honest._

It was going to be a very, _very_ long summer.


	3. Focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper goes for a walk in the woods. Bill makes for a poor traveling companion.

He always started by running.

The world tasted like ash and fire and his lungs were collapsing in his chest. The roads were uneven, split down the middle by massive cracks and chasms that led straight down to Hell. Statues of everyone he knew lined the sidewalks as he dashed past them, all of them frozen in eternal screams. Just like he was supposed to be, just like the Shapeshifter had predicted once upon a time.

Something massive and heavy landed on the ground behind him, causing him to fly up into the air for a moment before he fell back down and scrambled to keep running. He already knew what it was. It was the same thing every time. Too many teeth, too many arms, a horrible lashing tongue, an eye black as the abyss - the form Bill Cipher had taken to chase him and Mabel through the Fearamid.

With each passing dream he always hoped to escape it before it caught him. Yet in as many years as this had gone on, it had never happened; he was always caught. Always trapped like a rat in a dead-end maze. The buildings closed in around him, walls came up to block him, walls made of black bricks and the shattered statues of his family. He could hear the beast getting closer as he struggled to find a way out.

And then, as if a switch had been flipped, Dipper was suddenly all too aware of his surroundings. The bricks felt cool under his hands. The air burned. And he felt like _himself,_ like it was _real_ , like he was… lucid.

“So this is what you dream about, huh?”

Dipper turned his head to see none other than Bill Cipher floating nearby, looking at him with mild interest as he twirled his cane. Seeing him again… it chilled Dipper to the very bone. But he didn’t have much time to worry about that, because the _other_ Bill Cipher was closing in, and fast.

“Wait, kid, I wanted to talk to you!” Bill yelled as Dipper shot off in another direction. He had almost made his way down an alley when Bill reappeared in front of him, tapping his cane against his side (his shoulder?). “It’s rude to run off when people are talking,” said Bill.

“I don’t care!” Dipper yelled. “Can’t you see I have bigger problems?!”

“Quite literally,” Bill droned as the dream version of himself appeared at the head of the alley. “Okay, kid,” he went on, “why don’t I do you a solid here?”

Dipper watched as Bill raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and all of the sudden, the monster was gone.

Everything was gone.

“What…?” Dipper looked around the empty space, and just as quickly it wasn’t empty anymore - it was the forest around the Mystery Shack, only in black-and-white.

“You’re _welcome,_ ” said Bill as he floated towards Dipper. “I’ve been looking through your skull all day, Pine Tree. Looks like Weirdmageddon really did a number on ya, huh? I gotta say, I’m pretty proud of my work.”

Dipper clenched his fists and grit his teeth. It was humiliating knowing that Bill had been rooting through his trauma and knew just how messed up he was now. It already made him feel horrible - it was worse having the enemy know about it! And not just any enemy, but the one he feared more than anything - the source of every problem being dug out of his mind.

“What do you want, _Bill?”_ Dipper snapped.

“Testy, testy. I just wanna talk about the terms of our arrangement, Pine Tree!” Bill twirled his cane and chuckled. “You really stuck it to me with this honesty thing, huh? I expected something else, like power, or fame, or the girl of your dreams…”

“I barely trust you with the honesty,” said Dipper. “Let alone anything _else._ ” Talking back to Bill felt like a death sentence, yet invigorated him at the same time.

Bill made a sound like he was clicking his tongue (which he obviously didn’t have). “I already told you, kid. I _gave_ you a hint. Just not the hint you were expecting. I’m like a genie - you gotta be _real_ specific.” He leaned in close to Dipper, who flinched away in disgust and fear. “And between you and me, I’m more forgiving than a genie!”

“Whatever,” Dipper huffed as he moved away from Bill and began to walk through the forest. He hated being so close to the source of his nightmares, but the path before him offered no escape - it seemed to go on endlessly. In the distance there was only a shapeless fog. “Can you just get to the point?”

Bill rolled his eye and floated after Dipper.

“Fine,” he said flatly. “The point is, I need the power you have. Only thing is, I’ve ransacked your head and I can tell you have no idea what it is or how to use it. I wouldn’t believe you had _anything,_ except…” He paused for a moment, then flipped his hand. “Nevermind. Point is, you’ve got some kind of supernatural power, and I need it.”

Dipper shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, which he knew he wasn’t wearing when he’d fallen asleep, but it was nice to have it in his dreams. “I dunno what your source is, but you’re mistaken,” he said. “I would have told you as much if you hadn’t been pointing a knife at Stan, not like you would have cared. I’m just a normal guy with a thing for the _not_ normal.” He grit his teeth as he added, “Enjoy being stuck in my head for no reason.”

Bill floated in front of Dipper and stuck his cane out, jabbing him in the chest and forcing him to stop walking. Dipper could feel his heart pounding a mile a minute against his ribs. “Listen, kid,” Bill said, his eye narrowed, “my source is an all-knowing being you can’t even begin to comprehend. And he’s not one to speak in riddles. I know what I heard, and I know there’s something in you that can get me out of here for good. It’s just a matter of unlocking it. All powers have to be discovered before they can be used.”

Dipper frowned, glared at Bill, and shoved his cane away. “I _don’t_ have powers,” he repeated as he walked around the demon and kept going. He half expected Bill to grab him as he passed, but he made it away with no hinderance.

“If that little pig Gideon could learn how to use magic, don’t you think you could?” Bill retorted.

Rage bubbled up inside of him at the mocking tone of Bill’s voice. “I don’t _want_ to!” Dipper yelled as he spun on his heel to face the demon. “I don’t care what Gideon did!” He really didn’t, not anymore. Though still running the Tent of Telepathy and generally being a nuisance to Stan whenever they crossed paths, Gideon had come a long way from his evil days. In fact, he would be appalled and probably frightened to hear that Bill had come back… especially after all the dancing Bill had made him do.

Bill jabbed his cane into Dipper’s chest again. “You think you have a choice, kid?” he asked, his voice suddenly cold. “Either you figure out your powers and get me out of here, or I will spend the rest of your miserable human existence giving you nightmares that will make your fears seem like _daydreams._ ”

Dipper swallowed hard and tried to look brave, but his palms were already sweating. Bill’s voice gave him chills, and the cane against his chest felt like a solid weight ready to break through and pierce his heart.

“I’ll help you unlock your powers,” Bill went on, “because I want to get out of here. But I think you’d better reconsider trying to stand up to me while I’m stuck here.”

With a slow exhale and a shake of his head, Dipper pushed the cane away again. “Why can’t you just go back to the place you’re from?” he asked. “Why are you saying you’re _stuck_?”

Bill narrowed his eye and sighed. “Crap. Didn’t mean to word it that way,” he muttered. Then, to Dipper, “Look, let me be _honest._ I was outside, in the real world, and I projected into someone’s Mindscape. Remember? Then I was destroyed, and thanks to not having access to the real world anymore, I’m _stuck in the Mindscape._ If anyone summons me like this, I’m not gonna be able to go to them. I’m trapped. Happy?”

“...So if I never let you into the real world, you’d be trapped in my mind forever?”

Bill put his hands on his sides. “And I’ll turn your every waking moment into a nightmare,” he repeated. “And that memory-erasing trick? I think we both know that doesn’t work now.” He jabbed his cane at Dipper’s face, inches from his nose. “You really wanna go crazy for the sake of the world, Pine Tree?”

Dipper looked down at the ground and clenched his fists. He didn’t know if he _could_ do that. It would destroy the family, and he would lose so much of his life… He knew Bill would be able to destroy him. The nightmares he had already were bad enough. If it was really _worse_ , and coming from the _real_ Bill Cipher…

“And don’t even think about trying to fight me here,” said Bill. “I’m stuck. No matter what you do, I’ll still be in your mind, kid.”

Dipper turned away from Bill and shoved his hands back into the pockets of his hoodie. “I have no idea what these supposed powers are,” he muttered. “And I don’t know how I’m gonna get you into the real world.” He felt utterly defeated with each word, and unable to deny how much Bill’s words scared him.

“I said I’ll help. I’m sure I can figure this out.” Bill looked around and placed a finger on his bowtie. “Must have something to do with that constellation on your head…”

Dipper flushed bright red. Of _course_ Bill knew about that.

“Can I go yet?” he asked as he looked around at the trees. “I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say to you, Bill.” In truth, he didn’t want to say _anything._ But it really was looking like he had no choice now. He was stuck, _trapped_ with the object of his torment now. Ignoring him would be a waste of effort.

Bill manifested a watch on his wrist and looked at it. “Yeah, I guess it’s about time for you to be up,” he said. “You need to be up bright and early to try and practice your abilities!”

“I don’t have any yet,” said Dipper, brows furrowed as he pointedly kept his eyes off of Bill. “We were just talking about that.”

“You will soon,” Bill replied, and then he snapped his fingers.

* * *

Dipper jerked awake in a pool of sweat, his breath coming hard.

“Another nightmare?” Mabel asked, her voice sympathetic.

Dipper turned over in bed to look at his sister and found her sitting on the edge of her bed, already dressed and tying her hair up.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

Mabel flipped her ponytail and smiled. “I thought I’d go see the girls today!” she replied. “I’ve missed them so much! And besides, Grunkle Ford said he wanted to take you out today.”

“He did?”

“Yep.” Mabel stood up from the bed and smoothed out her sweater. Today’s design was a seal balancing a ball on its nose. “It was about an hour ago, when I went to have breakfast,” she said.

 _I thought you said I needed to be up early,_ Dipper thought in annoyance.

 _You do,_ Bill replied. _That didn’t mean I was actually_ waking you up _early. You sleep forever, kid!_

Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb and sighed. It was easier to be aggravated than scared, though the sound of Bill’s voice in his head still sent chills up his spine.

“You okay, Dipper?”

He dropped his hand and looked over at Mabel. _I should tell her,_ he thought. _I should let her know -_

 _Try it,_ said Bill, _and I’ll drop you back into sleep, Pine Tree. This is our little secret._

Dipper swallowed hard and tried not to think any paranoid thoughts. He had to try, even with Bill’s threat hanging over him. He opened his mouth, ready to speak, ready to at least say Bill’s name. Maybe Mabel could help him, maybe she could keep him sane -

Before anything left him, a wave of exhaustion washed over Dipper’s body, causing him to slump back against his pillows.

_Don’t._

“Okay,” Dipper muttered shakily as he fought to keep his eyes open.

“You don’t seem okay at all,” Mabel said, alarmed as she approached Dipper’s bed and reached out to touch him. He sat back up as the exhaustion faded away, and she grabbed his shoulder and held tight. “I know this whole barrier thingy is freaking you out, but you’re gonna be okay! You and Grunkle Ford will figure this out!”

Of course. That was why she hadn’t commented on his behavior the day before - she thought he was just distressed about the barrier. And why wouldn’t he be? It spelled possible destruction for Gravity Falls, let alone the entire world - and it was a reminder of _Bill._ Mabel couldn’t know that Dipper was already being reminded of Bill every few minutes or whenever he had any thoughts Bill deemed interesting enough to comment on.

 _Hey, I don’t always stick to what’s interesting,_ Bill said. _Sometimes what you think is just stupid enough to say something about._

Dipper groaned.

“Go see your friends,” he said as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched. “I’ll go out with Grunkle Ford. You’re right, everything will be okay.” He offered his sister a smile, but she didn’t seem to buy it.

“Call me if you need me, okay?” Mabel said. “I _mean_ it. Anything you need.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I mean it, Dipper!”

Dipper waved his hand towards the door. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Go on, go have fun. I need to get dressed.”

Mabel hesitated, then leaned down and gave him a hug. “Don’t trip over your pants,” she said before giving his cheek a kiss and backing away.

“ _One time_ that happened!”

Mabel laughed, then, and went on her way, Waddles jumping off of her bed to follow her.

Dipper stared at the door as she shut it, his mind going in a thousand directions at once. Nothing he could think of was entirely pleasant. At least he would be able to spend some time with Ford… That was always a good thing. And thinking about it, wouldn’t Ford notice Bill immediately if he were to take over? If anyone had an eye for Bill, it was Ford. Maybe this was Dipper’s way out…

He started chastising himself for the thought as Bill’s laugh echoed through his head.

 _You got a point!_ said Bill. _Ol’ Fordsy_ would _notice me! But what if you just collapsed to the ground, dead asleep?_ Anything _could cause that, Pine Tree…_

 _I can’t wait until you’re out of my head,_ Dipper thought with every ounce of malevolence and anger that was in his body.

_The feeling is mutual, kid._

Dipper stood up to get dressed, uncomfortable the entire time as he struggled with the feeling of being watched.

* * *

 _Concentrate!_ Something’s _gotta happen!_

“I _am_ concentrating!” Dipper hissed under his breath. “Would you be patient?”

_No. Now try again._

Dipper squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists to fight back a wave of memories that crashed down around him at the sound of Bill’s voice, so cold and hostile. Honestly, Dipper _loathed_ having to work with Bill as some kind of _magic coach,_ but anything to get the demon out of his head was preferable to just sitting around and letting it happen. And while Ford was busy getting prepared to go into the woods, Dipper’s best option was to get started with his supposed abilities.

As expected, it wasn’t going much of anywhere.

“What am I even trying to _do_ ?” Dipper asked as he opened his eyes and stared at the empty backyard. “Move things? _Make_ things? Set things on fire?”

 _Fire would be nice,_ replied Bill, _but the truth is that I don’t know._ There was a moment of silence, then, _You really hit me with that honesty thing, huh kid?_

Dipper wondered if Bill was simply compelled to be honest now, or if it was a conscious decision. As he should have expected - but wasn’t used to yet, and possibly never would be - Bill heard the thought and replied.

 _It’s a compulsion,_ he said with an obvious grumble in his voice. _I feel like you don’t understand how deals work, kid. I can’t_ not _fulfill my end. For something with more of a loophole, I can choose how I go about things, but for your clever little bargain… I’ve found myself unable to be vague or dishonest! Ahaha!_

“Right.” Dipper reached up to touch his hat, then brushed his bangs off of his forehead, only to have them fall back into place. “So you don’t know what I’m supposed to do?”

Bill’s sigh filled Dipper’s mind. _No, I don’t. But I know enough about magic to know that isn’t important. With enough focus, you’ll be able to unlock whatever it is you’re capable of doing - But I guess we can try to narrow it down._

It was strange, hearing Bill speak this way. The last time he’d spoken so casually to Dipper had been right before he possessed him four years ago. And back then, he wasn’t trying to teach him anything, and he wasn’t bound by any sort of deal. At the very least it made Dipper’s life easier to have Bill speaking in a non-threatening way - and in a way that wasn’t maniacal or giddy, as he usually tended to be. It almost made Bill seem distracted from being _himself_ , and that was exactly the kind of thing Dipper needed to make it through this.

 _Focus on your hand,_ said Bill. _Try to make something appear. Doesn’t matter what, so don’t think about it. Just focus. And try channeling through your forehead._

“My forehead?” Dipper asked with a grimace.

_Yes, your forehead. Where that birthmark is. It’s probably got something to do with your powers. Now chop chop, Pine Tree!_

Dipper raised his hand palm-up and stared at it. _Focus,_ he thought to himself. _Focus._ He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He didn’t really know _how_ to “channel through his forehead”, but he tried his hardest, searching for some feeling deep in his body that he could direct to his head. It occurred to him how ridiculous this all was, attempting to conjure magic from _within himself,_ but it didn’t really matter. Bill was determined. And as long as Bill was in his mind… he was in charge.

It was a horrifying thought, and a horrifying reality.

“Dipper! There you are!”

Dipper dropped his hand and turned around as Ford rounded the back of the house and approached him eagerly. He was all dressed up in his adventuring gear and had a pack that was no-doubt full of supplies slung across his shoulder.

 _Fantastic timing,_ Bill quipped.

“Hey Grunkle Ford,” Dipper greeted as casually as he could, hoping no questions would be asked about why he was standing in the middle of the backyard and doing nothing. “Are you all ready to go?”

“Sure am!” Ford replied. “I was thinking we might head deep into the forest and see if we can spot any increased signs of _weirdness_ ; it might give us a solid lead on a physical location for the breach.”

 _Was I in the middle of the woods when I opened up that portal?_ Bill said, voice dripping with sarcasm. _Coulda sworn I was in the middle of town, but Sixer’s the smart guy!_

“Didn’t Bill open that rift in the middle of town?” Dipper asked. “Weren’t we in the bell tower when it happened?”

Vivid memories flashed through his mind - the red sky, the screaming townspeople, the gruesome hole in Bill’s hat filled with flesh and bone, Ford as a statue, jumping at Bill -

And then it was gone, just as quickly.

 _Yeesh. Talk about a blood-tinted lens,_ said Bill. _How about we ignore those fond memories for now and focus on the task at hand?_

“That’s true, Dipper,” said Ford. “However, I haven’t been able to see any increased signs of the abnormal in town. And I’ve certainly checked. I’m thinking that it’s possible for the tear to have moved; originally, the strangeness always came from the forest, so I figure it’s our best bet.” He turned to walk back around the house and motioned for Dipper to follow. “Come on, Dipper!”

Together they walked to the side of the Shack and started on a dirt path that led into the trees. As they went, Ford handed a sack over to Dipper, and Dipper slung it over his shoulder and hoisted it up on his back.

“So how’d you know about the barrier weakening?” asked Dipper as the Shack receded into the distance behind them.

Ford smiled. “Ah, it was just a matter of paying attention, my boy. You see, a month ago I received a transmission from Fiddleford - he had been noticing stranger and stranger things coming from the woods, things he hadn’t seen since Weirdmageddon… and even some new beasts. As soon as Stanley and I arrived home, I ran some tests and found the weirdness level to be far beyond normal readings!”

“So you assume it’s the Nightmare Realm?”

“It has to be. There’s no other source.” Ford looked around as they took a bend in the path, keen on seeing something strange or new. “The Nightmare Realm has long been the fountain from which weirdness springs into the Falls. It’s the very place Bill wanted that portal to go to - and the very place he’s from.”

 _Not much of a home, really,_ Bill commented.

Dipper nodded. “Right, yeah.” He paused for a moment in thought, then asked, “Did you ever see monsters from Gravity Falls in the Nightmare Realm when you were there, Grunkle Ford?”

“Plenty of them, yes,” Ford replied. “Many that you’ve seen now have been native to this land for centuries, but some are certainly more… recent. But the Nightmare Realm isn’t only home to monsters and demons.” He adjusted his glasses and looked over at Dipper. “It’s also home to restless spirits of the damned,” he said, and Dipper shuddered at the thought. “I’m not sure how they came to be there, but there were times that I wondered if the Nightmare Realm is… some sort of afterlife for certain beings.”

Bill started laughing like a maniac, and Dipper just barely resisted the urge to cover his ears, knowing it would do him no good.

“Maybe,” he said, and Bill laughed harder.

The foliage began to get more dense as they moved further and further into the woods. The path was well-trodden, but the trees were thick and heavy overhead. Dipper didn’t find himself too bothered by it, but Ford had to keep stooping over or swatting branches out of the way as they walked.

Dipper wished he could enjoy the sweet Oregon air and the sounds of nature all around him, but with the demon of his nightmares taking up residence within his mind, it was impossible to focus on such things. He’d become quite the outdoorsman over the years for the sake of his paranormal research, and he greatly enjoyed treks through the Gravity Falls wilderness - but Bill’s voice echoing in his mind dampened any enthusiasm he had. It was _maddening._ The sooner Bill was out, the better.

 _Maybe you should focus on your powers again,_ Bill commented idly. _The sooner you figure ‘em out, the sooner I’m out of here for good. Though to be honest…_ He paused to chuckle. _...It’s not likely you’ll figure out what I need in a day. But any progress is good progress._

 _So, what? You want me to try and burn the forest down or something?_ Dipper replied.

 _I doubt fire is in your repertoire, kid,_ Bill said. _To be honest._

Dipper was starting to hate the word “honest”.

“So, Grunkle Ford,” he said to break the silence. “What kind of devices do you have for measuring ‘weirdness’?”

Ford grinned and stopped walking so he could pull his pack around to the front. “I’m glad you asked, Dipper!” he said as he dug through the bag. “I made this myself - it’s a sort of Geiger counter for weird activity!” He pulled out a small black object that looked roughly like a walkie-talkie with a screen on it. He seemed about to explain more, but then he looked down at his device in confusion.

“Well, that’s odd,” Ford said. “Either that, or it bodes very poorly for us.”

“What is it?” Dipper asked, but he had a feeling he knew the answer.

“The device is registering weirdness off the charts,” Ford replied as he slowly turned in place. “It doesn’t matter where I point it - it seems to be quite overwhelmed.”

 _I think you coulda done that_ without _my help,_ said Bill. Dipper chose to ignore him.

Ford looked around the area and pursed his lips together. “I don’t see anything,” he said. “Though it’s possible I’m simply not looking hard enough…”

As if to aid in the search, Dipper began to look around as well, though he was positive that _he_ was the source of the machine’s behavior. All around was just dense foliage and tall trees. How long would it be before Ford figured out something was wrong? Or would he just assume his device was going haywire?

It was then that Dipper spotted something through the trees.

“I think there’s a clearing here, Grunkle Ford,” he said as he put a hand over his eyes to shade them from the sun. “Maybe there’s something there?”

Bill hummed a strange tune within his mind.

Ford moved closer to the trees for an inspection, then began pushing branches and leaves out of the way. “Maybe there is!” he said. “Come on, Dipper! Let’s see what weirdness we can scrounge up!”

Dipper stuck close behind Ford as they pushed through to the clearing. As they walked into the tall grass surrounding the area, Dipper suddenly became hyper-aware of the fact that it had gone deathly silent. The birds and bugs from before were nowhere to be seen or heard; even the wind was still. It was as though they had stepped into another world.

 _What’s going on here?_ Dipper wondered.

Bill offered no answers.

“Well, this is a quaint little place,” said Ford as he held his weirdness-device out over the grass. “Still… I’m not seeing what’s causing all this activity. Perhaps it’s underground? Though that wouldn’t make sense for the barrier…”

“Maybe it’s just Gravity Falls,” Dipper said as he ventured further into the clearing. “Maybe it’s _all_ too weird.”

Ford hummed in thought. “While it’s a valid idea, I’ve tested this device extensively - it should only be picking up on higher levels of abnormality.” He tapped the device a few times and frowned at it. “Maybe the thing’s just busted… Stanley may have tried to use it for something _other_ than its intended purpose…”

Dipper opened his mouth to reply, something along the lines of not being surprised that Grunkle Stan would do such a thing, but he was stopped short by a shaft of light shining through the trees and coming to rest in an otherwise shadowy edge of the clearing.

It felt like all the breath had been taken from his lungs.

 _How fun is that!_ Bill exclaimed. _Nothing like a petrified corpse to brighten your day, eh Pine Tree?_

The eye - the massive, blank eye - felt like it was staring right through him. _Into_ him. Dissecting every thought, every fear - and wasn’t that exactly what was happening? Wasn’t that the _exact_ situation he had found himself in?

 _Ugh, look at all that moss,_ Bill went on. _I’ve definitely seen better days._

The outstretched hand, fingers splayed in anticipation, reached towards him. Dipper was sure it would grab him soon and pull him back, pull him _down,_ back into his own memories - back to _Weirdmageddon -_

“Have you found something, Dipper?” Ford asked as he walked up behind his grand-nephew. “What is -” He stopped short as he saw it, cast in the light filtering through the leaves, reaching out for any hand willing to make a deal.

“My god,” he said. “I haven’t come across this site since that nightmare ended. How did we find this place?”

Dipper couldn’t find it in himself to speak.

 _It’s a good thing you found it, too,_ said Bill. _Because once you’ve gotten me out of your head, I’m gonna need this bad boy to really reign supreme again._

He remembered, so vividly, watching Stan shake Bill’s hand. Watching the statue fall to the ground as Bill entered the Mindscape. And Ford, dressed in his brother’s suit, pointing the memory gun right at Stan’s head as Stan knelt on the floor. The risk Stan had taken to ensure not only the safety of Dipper and Mabel, but the entire _world._ Weirdmageddon had blown away into nothingness just like his memories…

...And now it was Dipper’s job to undo all that.

The gentle sound of a pan flute being played just barely managed to draw his attention away from the statue.

Standing in the shadows of the trees was a faun with curly red hair and fur to match. It played the flute for a few more moments before looking at Dipper and Ford with wide, knowing eyes.

“A faun!” Ford said under his breath. “Amazing! It’s so rare to see the benevolent creatures of these woods. I wonder why it’s come here?”

“The All-Seeing Eye has not closed,” said the faun in a light, sing-song voice.

Dipper felt his heart drop into his gut.

“Even now,” it went on, “ _he_ watches through the eyes of another.”

“Incredible,” said Ford, apparently missing the significance of the phrase “All-Seeing Eye”. But Dipper knew it. He knew it too well. It was something he saw behind his eyelids, something that haunted every dream, something that was cackling low in his head at that very moment.

“Grunkle Ford,” Dipper whispered, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

The faun eyed the statue warily and backed further into the shadows, holding its pan flute close to its chest.

“Wait, tell us more!” pleaded Ford as the creature began to retreat. “What is it you speak of?”

 _Bill,_ Dipper thought, but the name refused to leave his tongue.

The faun looked at them both again, then focused its gaze on Dipper. He could feel his head growing light as it spoke once more.

“Though bound by willpower, through flesh and blood, the Ancient will rise again with the trees.”

Dipper’s legs gave out beneath him, and he stumbled backwards into Ford, startling the faun into dashing away into the shadows of the forest.

“Dipper!” Ford exclaimed in shock. “What’s wrong?!”

All he could see was the statue. It filled his vision, beckoned to him with that outstretched hand. His breath came in shallow gasps as flashes of memories came and went before his eyes, everything he’d seen and heard at the hands of Bill Cipher rolling into one horrible waking nightmare.

“Breathe, boy, breathe!” Ford yelled.

 _Jeez, kid,_ Bill said, some surprise evident in his voice. _Is this really how you feel about seeing a dead body? It’s not like it’s gonna hurt ya. Not yet, anyway! Ahaha!_

“Take me home,” Dipper gasped as he scrambled to stand again and move away from the statue. Ford held him in place, but he struggled, trying his hardest to distance himself from the horrible thing. “Please, Grunkle Ford, _please!_ ”

“Is this really the effect Bill has on you?” Ford murmured as he tried to hold Dipper still. “He’s _gone,_ Dipper. I promise you. He’s gone.”

Dipper pressed himself against his great-uncle, eyes staring vacantly forward into the fabric of Ford’s turtleneck. The faun’s words bounced around in his head along with everything Bill had said, creating a horrible din he couldn’t escape from. Words he longed to say lingered and died on his tongue.

 _Gone,_ said Bill, _but not forgotten. Eh, Pine Tree?_

He could feel the statue’s eye boring into his back.


	4. Only the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill adopts a new form while Dipper struggles with his emotions.

When Mabel arrived home later that night, she was surprised to find her brother curled up in a ball on top of his covers with his back turned to the rest of the room. She had expected to find him watching TV downstairs, or maybe not see him at all because he was in the basement with Ford - the last thing she was prepared for was to see him like _this._

“Dipstick? Are you okay?” She spoke quietly on the off-chance that Dipper was asleep, but as soon as the words left her, he let out a loud sigh and gripped his head in his hands.

“...Not really.”

Mabel flicked on the lights and set her purse down by the door, then approached Dipper’s bed and sat down on the edge. “What’s wrong?” she asked in her most gentle voice. “Did something happen?”

Dipper glared at the wall and entwined his fingers in his hair. He wished he could tell her the whole truth - he wanted _someone_ to talk to about Bill, and Mabel was always his closest confidant. Even now, at sixteen years of age, Dipper hadn’t managed to gain any closer friends outside of Wendy and Ford, with Pacifica gradually climbing the ladder behind them. And he couldn’t tell any of _them_ either. All he wanted, though, was to be able to tell _Mabel._ He wanted her help, her understanding, her unique way of looking at things.

Instead, he turned to the events of earlier in the day.

“We found Bill,” Dipper said, the name like poison in his mouth. “The statue he left behind. Grunkle Ford hasn’t seen it since Weirdmageddon, but we found it. It was in a clearing off one of the forest paths… I don’t know how he missed it.”

Mabel grimaced and put a hand on her brother’s back. “Ugh, that sounds gross. Did something happen when you found it?”

“Yeah. I had a complete meltdown.” Dipper spit each word out in disgust - he hated himself for how he’d reacted. “Grunkle Ford practically had to carry me back to the Shack.”

“Oh, Dipper…” Mabel rubbed his back in small circles and moved closer to him. “It’s understandable, I’m sure Grunkle Ford doesn’t blame you… Did you tell him about the nightmares?”

Dipper pulled his hands out of his hair and let them fall onto the bed. “No,” he said dejectedly. “What would he think, Mabel? He spent thirty years traveling through dimensions, and I spent a few days in the apocalypse. Bill actively went _after_ him, and he - he didn’t even care about me during Weirdmageddon. I wasn’t important. But _I’m_ the one freaking out about him?”

 _My mistake,_ Bill piped up. _If I’d gone after you in the first place, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation. Guess I underestimated you, kid!_

“I think Grunkle Ford would understand,” Mabel said. “If _anyone_ would, it’s him. You should let him know.” She patted Dipper’s back before setting her hand back in her lap. “At least Bill’s gone, right?”

Dipper grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut.

_I know what you’re thinking, kid. Don’t try it._

“I’m so sick of playing this game,” Dipper muttered. He started to move, ready to sit up and look his sister in the eye. “Mabel -”

And then he blacked out.

* * *

Bill took a steadying breath as he found himself staring down at the covers of Dipper’s bed. Every part of him ached to jump up and take advantage of his form, just like he would in any other situation, but he knew the consequences that would follow. Keeping his pact with Dipper a secret was the key to actually making it out into the real world. The Pines family was too powerful.

 _I wonder if I could access his powers myself,_ he thought absently as he stretched out the fingers of one hand.

“Dipper? What is it?”

Bill lifted his head, then decided not to look at Mabel. Better he not give her even the slightest chance to see his eyes. Especially in this darkness… the change would be more obvious.

“Sorry, sis,” he said after a moment, quiet and a little hoarse. “I’m just… really ruffled up by all this.”

There was a pause, a thick silence that made Bill feel uneasy. It was hard not to turn his head to see how Mabel was reacting. Could she detect the change in his voice, or had he nailed it?

Mabel sighed and put her hand on his back again. “I’m sorry, Dipper,” she said quietly. “I wish there was more I could do. How about we hang out and relax tomorrow? You know, get your mind off things.”

Bill smiled to himself as he lowered Dipper’s body back down onto the bed. _Nailed it,_ he thought.

“That sounds great, Mabes,” he said. “But, uh, do you mind if I have some alone time before that? I really wanna… think about things, you know?”

“Sure thing, Dip. Whatever helps.”

“Great.” Bill flexed his fingers a few more times as he absently ran his tongue across his teeth. Being in a human host was always such an enjoyable experience; he hated putting it to waste. Though scoring some “alone time” to practice Dipper’s abilities wasn’t really that much of a waste, he supposed.

“I’m gonna head to bed,” Mabel said as she stood up and walked over to her side of the room. “It’s been a long day with the girls! You should probably sleep too, Dipper.”

“Yeah, I should,” Bill said as he ran the fingernails of one hand down his opposing arm. It wasn’t quite _pain,_ but it was still an interesting sensation. “I’m so exhausted, maybe I won’t even dream tonight.”

“I guess that’d be for the best,” said Mabel as she grabbed her night clothes and turned to go out to the bathroom. “Kind of a shame, though. Good dreams are fun!” She turned back at the door to look at her brother who, from her point of view, was still curled into a ball with his back to her. “Good night, Dipper.”

“Night,” said Bill, a grin plastered across his face.

* * *

Dipper paced back and forth between the trees, arms crossed over his chest and teeth clenched in fury. Even though he was in the Dreamscape, the tears running down his face felt hot and fresh as if he were really experiencing them. Maybe he was. He really didn’t know how the Dreamscape worked, and he didn’t _want_ to know. Not right now.

In a flash of light, Bill appeared nearby, and he didn’t even get to speak before Dipper rounded on him and jabbed a finger into his bowtie.

“How _dare_ you!” Dipper yelled in Bill’s face. “You unbelievable, _horrible,_ absolute sack of -”

Bill grabbed Dipper’s finger and bent it back, silencing him as he struggled not to cry out. “Amazing,” Bill said. “The baby who cries around my dead body has the nerve to touch me. Finally growing some nerves, kid? Or are you really _that_ indignant over something I explicitly _told_ you I was going to do?”

Dipper yanked his hand away and cradled it against his chest. “I’m not your _puppet,_ ” he hissed, now avoiding eye contact. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“The deal was access to your mind, Pine Tree. That includes shutting you out when you try to tell people about _our little secret._ Remember?”

Dipper swore under his breath and looked up at Bill for a brief moment, then at something behind him, and then down at the ground. He slumped against the nearest tree and sank down until he could pull his knees up to his chest and lay his forehead on them. “I hate this,” he muttered as he hugged his legs. “I hate _you_.”

Bill turned to see what was so interesting and found himself looking at his body again, this time in dream form and unfortunately inaccessible to him. It was annoying to see it so clearly and be so unable to re-enter it - just like earlier that day. It was so close, but so far!

“Figures this is the part of your Mindscape you’d go to,” he said as he turned back to Dipper. “Is looking at me _that_ horrible, Pine Tree? You said it yourself - you weren’t important during Weirdmageddon! How is it that I scarred you _so bad_ when I didn’t give a single solitary crap about you?”

Dipper didn’t reply.

“Oh, so we’re doing the silent treatment now,” Bill sighed. “And here I thought you could do better than this. You’ve got me in the palm of your hand, kid - anything you ask, I gotta be honest about. Anything I comment on, I gotta be honest about. What more could you want from me? I mean, besides having me go away - and that’s what we’re working on! What do you _want,_ Pine Tree?”

“For you to be literally _anyone else._ ”

“And if I do that, will you calm down?”

Dipper looked up from his knees, brows knitted together in anger and confusion. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

Bill sighed again and lowered himself down to eye-level with Dipper. “You’ve seen me transform before, Pine Tree,” he said.

“Into other versions of yourself, sure,” Dipper replied. He could only keep eye-contact for a moment before he was compelled to look away again. “How is that gonna change anything?”

“I can transform into just about whatever I want,” Bill said. “I just happen to like being myself, kid. But I can’t work with you like this - you need to be more, I dunno… _comfortable_ around me.”

Dipper lifted his head all the way and glared at Bill. “ _Comfortable?_ With _you?_ Are you out of your mind?!”

“Yes, I am, thank you for noticing.” Bill stuck his cane under one arm and cracked his knuckles. “I need to work with you, Pine Tree. I have an _idea_ for our training tomorrow, but on the off-chance that it doesn’t work, I need you to be less of a mess around me. So if I transform into _something else,_ will you calm down?”

Dipper narrowed his eyes and leaned back against the tree trunk. He looked carefully at Bill, then over at the statue far behind him, extending its hand out through the shaft of light it was under.

“...What _kind_ of something else?”

“Something you can relate to,” said Bill as he floated up higher again. “You know - head, torso, two eyes, skin, clothing - that kind of thing. I have a few ideas. Say when!” All of the sudden, his body began to glow, and before Dipper could say anything, Bill began to shift.

Black hair, brown hair, blonde hair, suits, vests, capes, short, tall, fat, thin, black, white, everything in between - Bill cycled through dozens of forms, each radically different from the next, none entirely _human._ But they were close. And Dipper had to admit that an appearance so radically different from the simple triangle he was used to might just be easier to handle. Of course, that meant Bill could be literally _anything_ else, but if he was set on a humanoid form, so be it.

“Okay, okay, stop!” Dipper yelled as he held up a hand against the light around Bill’s form. “Whatever is good!”

Black boots touched down on the grey earth, shortly followed by the end of a much longer cane.

“Wow, Pine Tree,” said Bill as he touched the lapel of his new black vest. “This one? Really?”

Dipper hesitantly lowered his hand and took in the sight before him.

The top hat was still floating, of course - why not? The hair was a vivid yellow, not even really _blonde,_ just the same color as Bill’s body had been before. The eyes were almost normal, save for the slit pupils and long lashes; the ears, similarly, were average but pointed at the ends. The skin was a rich tan that contrasted starkly against the vivid hair.

The clothing was suiting enough - a black vest over a yellow dress shirt; black gloves, pants, and boots; and of course, the iconic black bowtie.

All in all, it _did_ look reminiscent of Bill… yet at the same time, it _wasn’t_ Bill. Not the Bill Dipper had nightmares about. More like someone doing their best impression of him.

“You’ve got interesting taste, kid,” said Bill, and as his lips moved Dipper could see what looked to be sharply pointed teeth. “But this’ll do. It’s been… god. I don’t even know how long it’s been since I took on a humanoid form. Must have been a different dimension entirely.”

Dipper wasn’t sure what to say at first. This all seemed so _strange_. “Why are you even doing this?” he asked. “Why does my comfort matter to you?”

Bill frowned down at him. It was strange, seeing him emote with more than a single eye.

“Because the calmer you are, the easier it will be for you to channel your abilities,” said Bill. “I want this done as quick as possible, Pine Tree. And if walking around like this will make that happen, I’m willing to do it.” He held out a hand, then, as if to help Dipper stand. “Come on, let’s take a walk, kid.”

Dipper gave the hand a look of disgust and leaned away from it. “Why?”

“So we can talk. I’m getting sick of being around my fake dead body.”

Dipper looked over at the statue again, then up at Bill. He definitely felt less fear looking up at this strange new man as opposed to that horrible triangle. Bill’s _voice_ made his skin crawl, but he supposed there was nothing to be done about that. He was lucky anything was being done at all. It was so odd to have Bill really doing something in his favor…

After standing up and dusting himself off, Dipper began to walk through the trees of his Dreamscape, and Bill followed beside him.

“Had to give yourself a few inches on me, huh?” Dipper observed dryly. Bill wasn’t towering over him, but he was certainly _taller._

“Just trying to assert my authority, Pine Tree,” Bill said with a grin. His teeth were _definitely_ pointed. “Can’t have you getting too complacent around me.”

“Believe me, I won’t.” Dipper shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie - why was he always wearing it in his dreams? - and hunched his shoulders. In the distance was the familiar fog, the edges of the Dreamscape that he would never reach.

“So what’s that idea you mentioned having for tomorrow?” he asked as they walked down the path.

“Oh, that.” Bill chuckled and swung his cane up to rest on his shoulder. “Well, I thought about it while I was talking to your sister. See, I know how to channel magic - I do it all the time.” To demonstrate this, he lifted his free hand and summoned a bright blue flame, which burned for several seconds before Bill closed his hand and snuffed it out. “So my thinking is that I just take over for you and try to channel whatever abilities you may have.”

Dipper clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists in the pockets of his hoodie. “Right,” he sighed. “If you wanted to use me as a puppet, why not just make _that_ our deal?”

Bill shook his head. “No, I don’t even know if it’ll work,” he said. “Magic is sometimes a primal thing, but more often than not it has to do with the brain as much as the body. I may be able to wear your birthmark, but I can’t use your mind.”

“No, just _live_ in it,” Dipper muttered.

“Mmhm.” Bill flashed his teeth in another grin and then, without warning, threw an arm around Dipper’s shoulders. “But believe me, kid,” he said, “it’s not the most _ideal_ living situation.”

Dipper froze up at the contact, then backed away and ducked out from under Bill’s arm. His entire body felt cold, like his blood had turned to ice. “ _Don’t_ touch me,” he breathed.

Bill gave him a rather disinterested look, then shrugged and kept walking. “Whatever you want, kid,” he said as he twirled his cane and admired the way his new arm moved. “Guess we’ll never be friends, huh?”

“Guess not,” Dipper said with a roll of his eyes.

He watched Bill walk away for a few moments, waiting to see if he would stop or turn back. When he didn’t, Dipper begrudgingly trudged after him, deeper into the grayscale forest.

* * *

Late in the afternoon, Dipper excused himself for some “alone time” to “think about things” and headed back into the backyard, wary and almost afraid of what might happen as soon as his training with Bill began. His family let him go easily - Ford and Mabel both knew he must still be reeling over the statue, and Stan had heard snippets of the event from Ford. (It pleased Dipper how much better Stan seemed to be doing with Bill out of his mind, but it also made him wonder how horrible _he_ must have looked.)

 _Okay, Pine Tree,_ Bill said as Dipper looked around the empty space. _I’m gonna let you in on this one. You get to play_ my _role._

“Your role?” Dipper asked with a raised eyebrow, even though Bill presumably couldn’t see the gesture. “You mean the devil-spawn thing, or the talking-in-my-head thing?”

_The latter. I’m not devil-spawn, but thanks for the compliment._

Talking with a humanoid, not-Bill version of Bill during the night had given Dipper a slightly better grasp on his feelings towards the demon, but only by so much. When he heard Bill’s voice, it still brought to mind images of his true form, along with vivid memories of Weirdmageddon. In a way, it was just getting a little bit easier to _ignore_.

That made it all the more maddening that he was being forced into helping create Weirdmageddon 2.0.

 _You know, if it worries you so bad,_ said Bill, _you could just_ join me _instead of face the horrors of being my enemy. I’m sure I could use a capable kid like you in my army of freaks!_

“Not on your life, Bill,” Dipper said. “Now can we get this over with?”

_Sure thing!_

Suddenly he stumbled, his eyes rolling back into his head. When his body caught its footing again, Dipper found himself in his Dreamscape, back among the trees surrounding the Mystery Shack. Or was it his _Mind_ scape? He could never quite figure out the difference between the two.

Floating before him in the bleak grayness was a massive window into the real world that seemed to be projecting whatever came through his eyes. Or, for the time being, _Bill’s_ eyes.

 _...Is this how you see things?_ Dipper asked.

“Yep,” said Bill as he stretched his arms up over his head and cracked his neck. “Pretty convenient, huh kid? Helps me know what’s going on.”

Dipper looked around as Bill kept doing stretches (which Dipper doubted were necessary). As usual, the Dreamscape was silent; however, Dipper had been expecting to hear a little more than that, now that he was filling Bill’s “role”.

 _Why can’t I hear_ your _t_ _houghts?_

“Because you’re not in my mind. Duh!” Bill cackled to himself and wiggled his fingers in front of his face. “If you were, we’d have a much more interesting situation on our hands. Not one in my favor, though. And besides -” He glanced upwards, as if to look back into Dipper’s head. “Do you _really_ wanna hear _my_ thoughts, Pine Tree?”

_...Now that you mention it, no._

“That’s what I thought.” Bill rolled his shoulders and lifted a hand, palm up, and stared at it. “Now pay attention, because this is important,” he said. “I’m gonna tell you more about how this stuff works.”

Dipper considered pointing out the fact that Bill could have tried to explain it at any time, but instead he leaned against a nearby tree and listened.

“Magic is all about manipulating the fabric of reality,” Bill said. “It’s inherent to most demons and several other ‘paranormal’ beings here on this planet. It works differently everywhere, but one thing stays the same… manipulating reality.” He focused intently on the hand in front of him and tried to summon his flame, but nothing happened. He had expected as much.

“Whatever powers you have, they lie within those parameters,” Bill continued. “Whatever it is you can do, it’s going to change the world around you. And in our case specifically, the _hope_ here is that you can open a rift into a Mindscape through which I can escape.”

 _Okay, so that’s what it_ is _,_ Dipper said. _But how do I_ do _it?_

Bill lowered the hand and looked out at the forest spanning outwards a few meters away. “Magic is like breathing,” he said. “You don’t think about it; it’s just something you can do. On command or not.” He paused, frowned, and shook his head. “Er, not like breathing. You humans _need_ to do that. It’s like…”

 _Riding a bicycle?_ Dipper offered.

“Heh. I remember when those were invented.” Bill tapped a finger to his chest and grinned, stretching Dipper’s lips far enough to reveal his gums. “Hey, we make a pretty good team, don’t we, Pine Tree?”

_No. We don’t._

Bill shrugged. “Fine, whatever you say. Anyway…” He thought for a moment, then focused on the trees again. “So it’s like riding a bicycle. You gotta figure out how to do it, but once you do, you’re golden. It just comes naturally.” He closed his eyes, then, and began to channel his energy upwards through Dipper’s body. “You have to focus and bring everything you’ve got to the place where it matters,” he continued. “Heart, hand, eye - in your case, your birthmark. I’m assuming, anyway.” He could feel his forehead begin to burn as his energy reached it, and he opened his eyes again, ready to channel it outwards. “Focus, channel, release.”

Bill released the stored up energy, sending it in waves out towards the trees… and nothing happened.

Then Dipper yelled.

“What was that for?” Bill snapped, surprised by the outburst.

_A bunch of the trees in here just lit up in that weird blue fire of yours!_

Bill clucked his tongue and folded his arms over his chest. “Guess I’m still too tied to the Mindscape to do anything real,” he said. “Figured as much. Still, if I can channel energy in this body, you should be able to do it too. Ready to try again, Pine Tree?”

 _Yeah, let me out of here,_ Dipper said. _I hate having you in my body. Better in my head._

“Oh, I’d stay if it weren’t -” Bill was cut off by a sudden jingle and a strange sensation. He looked down, confused, then asked, “Why is your hip buzzing?”

Dipper pressed his hands up against the window into the real world, suddenly frantic. _Let me back out!_ he said. _That must be my phone!_

“What, is it urgent?” Bill asked as he dug the phone out of Dipper’s jeans and looked at it. “Last I checked, you’re not exactly swimming in friends, kid.” He tapped on the screen a few times, curious and trying to figure out how it worked.

_Bill, let me out!_

“Hold on,” Bill said with a smile. “I want to see what the fuss is all about.” He swiped his finger across the screen, grinned at his ability to decipher modern-day technology, then looked down at the text message on the screen. “From Paz,” he read aloud as Dipper yelled at him. “‘When are you coming to visit?’ Then a colon, and a parentheses. That’s a smile, right?”

 _Don’t read my texts!_ Dipper yelled. _Now let me out!_

“Paz,” Bill said as he tapped a finger to his chin. “Paz, Paz… Are we talking the Northwest girl? Alpaca?”

_Bill!_

“I don’t see why you’d be so frantic about this. Or is she your new flame? I thought you still had the hots for Red.”

Dipper sighed and put his face in his hands. He hated to have to remind himself of something so horrid, but _Bill was in charge._ He wasn’t getting his body back unless he played this stupid game. What did Bill care, anyway? Or was he just being like this to get on Dipper’s nerves? The latter seemed the most likely.

 _Pacifica isn’t my new ‘flame’,_ he said in exasperation. _She’s my friend. I thought the text was going to be from Wendy. She hasn’t asked me to hang out yet, so I figured… I don’t know. Are you happy?_

“Thrilled,” said Bill as he pocketed the phone. “The little nuances of your life are very exciting, Pine Tree.”

_You’re the one who asked!_

Bill cackled and took a few steps closer to the trees, swinging Dipper’s legs out as far as they could go with each step. “Just to bother you, kid. Man - I love this body of yours! It’s flimsy and weak and useless, but so fun to play around in!”

Dipper groaned and leaned back against one of the trees. _You have your own form to play around in now,_ he said. _In fact, if you love human bodies so much, why didn’t you transform into one sooner?_

“A living, breathing human body is a lot different than whatever I can manipulate my form into,” Bill said as he turned around to walk back towards the house, using the same massive steps as before. “But hey, maybe once I’m out here again, who knows! Might be fun to be in that form for a while!”

 _Awesome,_ Dipper said as he dragged his hands down his face. _Can I have my body back now? You want me to practice, don’t you?_

Bill stopped walking and rolled his eyes. “Fine, Pine Tree, you can come back out. Talk about a buzzkill!”

Before Dipper could say anything more, he found himself sucked out of the Mindscape and back in his own body, as if he’d been there all along. It was disorienting, to say the least.

 _Alright, remember what I told you,_ Bill said as Dipper rolled his shoulders and tried to brush off the feeling of having been possessed. _Focus, channel, and release. You probably won’t feel the same energy I did because your power is pitiful and weak, but you should feel_ something _if you get it right._

“Thanks,” Dipper said flatly. “I’ll try to remember that.” Truthfully, he still didn’t fully understand the explanation or what he was supposed to be doing. The very idea that he had _magical powers_ still seemed absurd, and he was inclined to not believe it if not for Bill’s insistence. Even with everything he’d seen and experienced in Gravity Falls, Dipper had trouble wrapping his mind around the idea that he, himself, was in any way supernatural.

Once again, Dipper lifted his hand up to eye level and focused on it. Bill had told him before not to focus on _what_ he was creating, but rather the act of creating in and of itself; he tried to keep that in mind as he began the attempt at channeling his energy. He didn’t really know _how_ to do that, but he had a strong suspicion that Bill didn’t know how to explain it any better than he already had.

As if to prove that theory, Bill didn’t reply to the thought.

Dipper stared at his hand and concentrated on making something _happen_. He imagined that the concentration was going through his forehead, into his birthmark, and tried to hold that idea in his mind. He envisioned it until he thought he could feel something moving within his body, up through his torso and into his mind; he wasn’t sure if he was just getting too into his imaginations or if it was really happening.

“Release,” Dipper whispered to himself as he channeled all of what he could feel towards his hand.

A light breeze lifted his bangs away from his head and unsettled his hat. Beyond that, nothing seemed to happen.

“Damn,” Dipper swore as he lowered his hand. “I almost felt like I had something there. Maybe this is -”

_Pine Tree, something just happened._

Dipper frowned and looked at his hand again. “No it didn’t,” he said. “I was watching, I -”

 _The birthmark!_ Bill exclaimed. _It was here - right here in your Mindscape. Lit up like Christmas lights._

“What does that mean?” Dipper asked.

 _I dunno,_ Bill replied, _but it means_ something. _I wouldn’t be surprised if your forehead was glowing there for a second._

“Bull,” said Dipper. “There’s no way…” He turned his hand over, then reached up and felt his forehead. It felt warm, but he _always_ felt warm. It probably didn’t mean anything.

 _Do it again,_ Bill urged. _Do it somewhere where you can see your reflection._

“My reflection…?” Dipper looked around the backyard. He couldn’t see anything reflective except the windows of the shack, and he didn’t want to be staring into those lest someone walk by and wonder what the hell he was doing. “I don’t know where…”

_What about your phone?_

Dipper looked down towards his pocket, mildly surprised. He hadn’t even thought of that. And Bill hadn’t pointed it out in any sort of aggressive manner - in fact, the only emotion he could detect in Bill’s voice was excitement. And it _was_ exciting, honestly… though it was dampened somewhat by the fact that his possible abilities would be used to usher in another apocalypse.

He pulled his phone out and looked at his reflection on the screen. Then, with his free hand, he pushed his bangs up so he could see his birthmark. It looked the same as ever.

 _Now try again,_ Bill urged. _Do what you did last time._

“Okay.” Dipper concentrated on his phone, then imagined the concentration flowing up through his body and into his birthmark, just like he had a moment ago towards his hand. He held it as long as he could, taking in a deep breath as he did, and then let out his breath and energy in a _whoosh._

In his reflection, there was no doubt as a faint blue light lit up the Little Dipper on his forehead for the brief amount of time in which he exhaled.

“Oh my god!” Dipper yelled, almost dropping his phone in the process. “Oh my _god!_ My - my birthmark -”

 _You did it, Pine Tree!_ Bill exclaimed. _You freakin’ did it!_

Dipper couldn’t help but grin as he stared into his phone. It was such a rush - he had _powers!_ He really was special! He wasn’t just some ordinary kid leading an extraordinary life; _he_ was extraordinary! And he never would have known if not for -

...Bill Cipher.

The grin faded, replaced with doubt and insecurity.

 _Oh, lighten up, kid!_ said Bill. _You can still use these powers during Weirdmageddon, you know! I mean, not against_ me _, but you can have loads of fun!_

“Right,” Dipper muttered. “Like you’ll let me _live._ ”

“Dipper?”

Dipper turned around to find that Mabel had rounded the back of the Shack and was standing a few feet away. “Oh, hey,” he greeted, surprised. “Am I taking too long?”

“I heard yelling,” said Mabel. “Is everything alright?” She looked worried, but then she seemed to notice the phone in Dipper’s hand, and her frown turned into a sly smile. “Oh, I get it. Wendy texted you, didn’t she?”

Dipper blinked owlishly at his sister, then looked down at his phone.

 _Just say yes,_ Bill snapped. _Stop thinking about it so hard._

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Dipper said, a slight waver in his voice. He hated the way Bill had sounded just then; it wasn’t enough to trigger a full panic, but it bothered him immensely. “She, uh, she wants to… hang out, y’know…”

Mabel giggled. “Sounds fun!” she said. “I won’t invite myself - I’m sure you need the alone time. Hey, maybe this is your lucky year, huh?”

“Oh, knock it off,” Dipper said as he approached his sister. “Me and Wendy aren’t gonna happen. We’re just friends.” He gave Mabel a playful shove as he reached her. “You’ve known that for like, four years now.”

“Yeah, but things can change,” Mabel said with a grin. “So you done thinkin’ about stuff now? Wanna watch some mindless television?”

“Sounds good to me.” Dipper smiled back at his sister and walked with her back to the inside of the Shack, doing his absolute best to hide his emotions as Bill spoke within his mind.

 _This is only the beginning, Pine Tree,_ Bill said, giddy and maniacal and everything Dipper hated to hear. _The beginning of something_ great. _Before you know it, you’re going to be able to open that rift, and I’ll be able to rejoin with my body… and weirdness will reign again! Ahaha!_

Dipper sat down with Mabel, listening to her talk about what had been going on that day, his gaze somewhat unfocused.

 _And I’ll make you an offer, kid,_ Bill continued. _You can join me, and I’ll spare you. Maybe your family, too, if they behave. Now I know what you’re thinking: Why would Bill do such a thing? The answer is that I need powerful people like you on my side, and you show every sign of becoming_  very _powerful_. _It’d be a shame to kill you, Pine Tree. Together… we could cause chaos the likes of which this dimension has never seen._

Dipper didn’t reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! I hope you're enjoying the story so far - please feel free to leave feedback! Every little bit helps me and inspires me to write more!
> 
> You're free to interpret humanoid!Bill however you wish, but you can find my personal interpretation on my dA, toxal.deviantart.com.
> 
> I love you guys!


	5. Getting to Know Bill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper has a talk with a friend and formulates a plan for how to deal with Bill.

As summer began to get underway, a routine was carefully established.

Dipper started his days normally enough; he had breakfast, watched TV, talked with Mabel and his Grunkles. Mabel had what seemed like a dozen craft projects already planned, as well as sleepovers left and right with Candy and Grenda. Ford was still investigating the weakness of the barrier between worlds and brainstorming possible fixes for it. Stan was helping his brother to the best of his ability, and when that wasn’t being done, he spent time at the front of the Shack to see how Soos was doing.

Sometimes Dipper would briefly tag along with Stan and say hi to Soos and Melody, then help out around the Shack in whatever ways they needed it. He’d become quite good at the song and dance over the years and easily led tourists through the exhibits and then back towards the merchandise. Soos would commend him for his abilities while Stan would pretend not to be impressed.

If he didn’t tag along with Stan, Dipper would join in on a craft project with Mabel or, if she was going out and Stan was in the gift shop, he would go into the basement to speak with Ford about whatever had been gleaned about the barrier.

And whenever Dipper finished his socializing for that morning, he would excuse himself to the backyard to “be alone” and “think about things”. His family let him go easily, knowing he was still rattled over the Nightmare Realm and Bill’s statue.

That’s when the training would begin.

Having his birthmark begin to glow became a regular occurrence; doing much outside of that was proving to be a harder task. Each day Bill would come up with new ideas for what Dipper might be able to do beyond open a rift, and Dipper would attempt to recreate what Bill suggested to no avail. He couldn’t summon fire, couldn’t move things, couldn’t bend any laws of physics - the best he seemed able to do was make his forehead light up. He did _feel_ something, though, with each passing day - some kind of energy burning in his mind, aching to be released. Bill insisted it wasn’t his presence doing it. It had to be Dipper’s powers. It _had_ to be.

So they trained, and trained, and trained.

All the while, Dipper found his mind swimming with complicated feelings over having the object of his nightmares camping out in his brain. He could tell no one, and until he unlocked his abilities, he could do nothing. Each day was another foray into the world of panic and flashbacks as Bill barked orders at him and giggled like a child when Dipper made any sort of mistake. Seeing Bill in his new form, and hearing him speak in the tone of an instructor rather than a madman, did help to some degree - but it wasn’t enough to erase Dipper’s problems entirely. He doubted anything could ever do that. And Bill, confusing being that he was, seemed caught up between wanting to inflict suffering on his enemy and wanting Dipper to be comfortable enough around him to work with him. He waffled back and forth between being helpful and being hurtful, always testing the limits of how far he could go before Dipper started to break down. Then he would turn on his heel and act as though Dipper were overreacting before making some cursory attempt to end the panicking so they could coexist “properly” again.

It was maddening.

And all the while, Dipper found himself asking the same question over and over again: _Why?_

 _Because it’s fun,_ said Bill.

 _For the sake of the eternal party,_ said Bill.

 _Because I hate being locked up in here,_ said Bill.

 _Why do you care, kid? You want me out of here too,_ said Bill.

The honesty deal could force him to be truthful, but it couldn’t always force him to speak. And Dipper had to wonder if that was for the best - if he had Bill blabbing every thought that crossed his mind, it would be like when Stan wore those horrible truth teeth, only a thousand times worse and a million times more terrifying. Right?

Still, he had to wonder… _Why?_

 _Why does anyone do anything?_ Bill had snapped the last time it came up. _Would you just focus?_

It only made Dipper more curious.

* * *

“When are you going to come visit?!”

Dipper laughed and cradled his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “What, you want me to put my pants back on and come running over there this late at night?” he asked. “I’m sure your parents would love that.”

“Ew, why aren’t you wearing pants?” Pacifica retorted as she tried to hold back a giggle. “That’s gross, Dipper.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I sleep in my underwear,” Dipper replied with a grin as he flopped down against his pillows. “My shirt is still on, though. Should I come over like this?”

“ _No!_ ”

Since the events of the Northwest Ball and subsequent ghost exorcism during that first summer, Dipper had found Pacifica to be a fantastic friend, even if she was still a bit uppity and entitled (and she didn’t seem to like Mabel in the slightest). She was surprisingly forgiving of Dipper’s “poor people habits” and often threw new clothes and money at him like it was nothing, which, to her, it probably was. She even had the decency to throw in a few things for Mabel at Dipper’s insistence. Underneath her glittering, ice-cold exterior was a genuinely good person, and Dipper enjoyed being her friend.

“Poor people are so weird,” Pacifica said as she rustled something around on her end of the line. “Don’t you have pajamas?”

“I’m wearin’ ‘em,” Dipper replied. “That’s the cool thing about boxers. They can do double duty like that.”

“I’m buying you a proper set of pajamas,” said Pacifica. “That’s just _weird._ What’s your pant size again?”

Dipper snorted. “Can it wait until we go shopping _together?_ ” he asked. “You don’t need to get it now. You’ll probably get me something _pink_.”

“Boo. That’s exactly what I was planning.”

 _Oh Axolotl, strike me down now,_ Bill groaned. _This is agonizing._

Dipper took interest in the deity Bill had mentioned, but decided not to comment on it. _You’ll survive,_ he replied. _Besides, she’s helping me relax. Don’t you want that?_

 _Debateable,_ Bill said. _We’re not training right now, so I don’t really care how off-the-wall you are._

With a sigh, Dipper put his phone against his opposite ear and reached over to his nightstand for one of his mystery books.

“Something wrong, Dipper?” Pacifica asked.

Of course something was wrong. _Everything_ was wrong. He was stuck with the source and embodiment of his greatest fears _living in his head,_ and to expel the problem, he would have to usher in a new age of weirdness and allow the apocalypse to happen again. And this time, Bill would no-doubt be taking all the proper precautions to make sure he was entirely unbeatable. It had all been so taxing that Dipper had little hope of being able to do anything once it began. And would Ford fare any better? Probably not. In fact, Bill was likely to preemptively enslave them all. It would well and truly be the end of the world, if not the universe as a whole once Bill began tearing holes into other dimensions.

“I’ve just been thinking about Weirdmageddon a lot lately,” Dipper said as he opened his dog-eared book to its first page.

_Watch it, Pine Tree._

Pacifica made a displeased sound. “You know you’re not supposed to mind all that,” she said. “Or something. What’s making you think about it?”

“Everything makes me think about it,” Dipper grumbled as he glared at the words in front of him. “Did you know the window in the attic is triangle-shaped? And do you remember that portal Bill opened up, the one all his cronies came out of? Turns out that weakened the barrier between our world and the Nightmare Realm…”

“Is that bad?”

“If you didn’t like Weirdmageddon, yeah, it’s pretty bad.” He turned the page of his book, then thumbed through a few more pages until he found one of the illustrations. “Grunkle Ford says the Nightmare Realm is a world between worlds, where there are no laws and no order.  Bill wanted to break out of it because it’s destined to fall apart, being the way that it is. His cronies left in there probably feel the same. Given the chance, they’ll make our dimension their new home.”

Bill had a lot to say when Ford had initially told Dipper all he knew of the Nightmare Realm, but now he was silent; either he was contemplating what Dipper was saying, or he’d lost interest entirely. It was hard to tell with Bill.

“Gross,” said Pacifica. “You’re doing something about it, right?”

Dipper put his hand on the phone so he could roll his shoulder, then switched the phone back to his other ear. “Yeah, we’re trying to,” he said. “It’s gonna be a lot of work.”

It was then that Mabel strolled into the room in her nightgown and sat down on the edge of her bed. “Who you talkin’ to, Dip?” she asked.

“It’s Paz,” Dipper said as he moved the phone away from his head for a moment.

“Hi Pacifica!” Mabel yelled, waving at the phone as though she could be seen. Dipper couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ugh,” Pacifica said as Dipper put the phone back to his ear. “She’s waving, isn’t she?”

“Yep,” Dipper replied.

Mabel giggled and put her feet into the slippers sitting by her bed. “We’re gonna watch a movie downstairs,” she said. “You wanna join?”

Dipper shook his head and set his book back down on his nightstand. “Nah,” he said. “I haven’t had a chance to catch up with Pacifica yet. Have fun, though.”

Mabel stood back up and walked over to Dipper’s side of the room. “Don’t have too much fun!” she said with a smile. Then she leaned down, and in her most obnoxious voice, said, “I _love you,_ Pacifica!”

“Please make her go away,” Pacifica groaned.

“She’s going, she’s going,” Dipper assured as Mabel bounded back out of the room. “She only wants to be your friend, you know.”

Pacifica made a few noises of protest and shuffled around on her end. “Weren’t we talking about your declining mental state?” she asked in a huff.

 _My favorite topic!_ Bill exclaimed, startling Dipper so bad that he almost dropped the phone.

“Jesus,” he hissed as he gathered himself, heart pounding out of his ribcage. Bill laughed maniacally inside of his mind.

“You okay?”

Dipper took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead with his free hand. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m just…”

Just what? What could he say that wouldn’t cross Bill’s line and force him to take over? After that first time with Mabel, Dipper had been extra careful to keep his mouth shut, but Bill’s influence on his daily life was too strong to keep saying absolutely _nothing._

Anxious and desperate, Dipper decided to test the waters again.

“Pacifica, what would you do if you were stuck with someone you hated?”

Bill stopped laughing.

“Well, I was, once,” Pacifica said with a snort. “Remember? When I had to get someone to deal with the hauntings at our old mansion?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Dipper said with a smile. “Remind me how we got through that?”

Pacifica hummed. “We got to know each other, didn’t we?” she said after a moment. “You found out how Daddy treated me. And I found out that you’re… more than some weird hick who never bathes.”

“Thanks, Paz.”

Pacifica laughed. “Well, it’s true!” she said. “You were just some annoying, gross brat when we met! But then, like, we spent time together, and I found out you were really smart, and kind, and… I dunno. I got to know the _real_ you.”

Dipper put his free hand behind his head and stared up at the ceiling in thought. That was true, wasn’t it? He and Pacifica had gotten to know each other. And perhaps just as important, during that adventure he’d also gotten to know the spirit that haunted the Northwests - he learned of its motives and desires, and thanks to Pacifica, it was done away with once and for all.

How different might things be if he got to know Bill Cipher?

 _What more is there to know?_ Bill replied to the thought. _Sixer told you all you need to hear._

 _But_  is _it all there is to know?_ Dipper asked.

_...No. I guess it’s not._

Dipper smiled to himself. Making that deal for honesty really had been in his best interest. Bill had no idea how poorly it would work in his favor, and now… Well, it wasn’t a key to immediate victory, but it was a start. If anything, it was making the best of a bad situation.

“You still there?” Pacifica asked, concern lacing her voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here,” Dipper replied as he shook himself out of his thoughts. “I, uh… Thanks. For reminding me, I mean. I’m glad I got to know the real you back then.”

Pacifica seemed to hesitate, surprised by Dipper’s sudden sincerity. “...I’m glad I got to know you too,” she said. “You’re a pretty great guy.”

Dipper fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt for a moment. He was never very good at taking compliments; they always made his face go hot and his voice raise a few octaves. Especially when they came from _girls._ He tried not to view Pacifica in any sort of romantic context, but he was still hardwired to see girls… _differently._

“Yeah, well,” Dipper said after a few tense seconds, “enough sappy stuff. What are we gonna do when I finally come visit?”

Pacifica squealed in delight. “Oh, all sorts of things!” she said. “First, we need to go shopping. Do you have swim trunks? We just finished remodeling the pool, it’s _amazing._ And you’re going to have to meet my new pony…”

Dipper relaxed against his pillows and closed his eyes as he listened to Pacifica talk. For the first time in days, he really felt on top of things - and Bill had been aggravated into silence. It was nice to just be able to listen to his friend ramble on and know that he had a plan. It was a tentative one, but it was a _plan._

Dipper had always been good at coming up with plans.

* * *

There was no time to dream before Dipper found himself in the Dreamscape, but he had grown accustomed to that. What was unusual about this particular night was that, at first, he appeared to be alone.

“Bill?” he called, to no avail. There was only silence. Curious, Dipper began to walk the forest path, stopping every so often to gaze into the trees which held his every memory. So many of them were unrelated to Weirdmageddon - it was strange to think that it had so encompassed his life over the past few years when it had lasted, at most, only a few days. It seemed so insignificant in comparison to the rest of his life, and yet…

He shook his head and kept walking. The last thing he wanted to do was linger on his trauma. Tonight was about getting to the center of Bill Cipher, and nothing would stand in his way.

It was strange, Dipper thought, that Bill would be absent. On any night that he found himself in his Dreamscape, Bill was always right there, ready to launch into whatever discussion he deemed important - whether it was about Dipper’s progress or his most embarrassing memories. To be brought in and left alone was unusual and more than a little unsettling. Was Bill mad that Dipper intended to ask him about himself?

Suddenly, Bill’s voice rang throughout the grayscale forest, its source indiscernible as it came from all directions. “As a matter of fact, _yes_. Very astute, Pine Tree!”

Dipper shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, then reluctantly dropped them back to his sides. He didn’t want to appear weak. Not tonight. “Come out, Bill,” he said, his voice wavering. “Let’s talk. You must want to if you brought me here.”

The realm was silent again, and all Dipper could see in each direction he looked were trees and memories. No Bill. He folded his arms over his chest and started to walk once more, when suddenly, Bill spoke again - and this time it didn’t echo throughout the Dreamscape. It came from behind a gnarled tree dwarfed by its brethren not too far up ahead.

“You know, even after searching your head, I didn’t quite get it.” Bill then appeared from behind that very tree, not looking at Dipper but rather looking down at something in his hands - Journal 3. Before Dipper could express his surprise, Bill went on. “You were scarred by Weirdmageddon, but _why?_ And _how?_ Not that I’m not proud of my work…”

Dipper clenched his fists and kept his eyes on Bill. He had to stay strong. He was on a _mission._ Yet even as he steeled himself, he realized that the memories of the tree Bill had been behind were none other than those of Weirdmageddon. Now when they flashed before his eyes, they were more vivid than ever before.

“You have a perfect replica of this book in your head,” Bill went on as he turned a page in the journal. “Pretty exciting, right? I figured if _anything_ would have answers, it would be this. I gotta admit, Pine Tree, it’s a good read.”

“Get to the point, Bill.”

Bill finally looked up at him, and even though he was in his humanoid form, Dipper felt a shiver of fear run up and down his spine at the look in Bill’s eyes. He was being _threatened_.

“August twenty-fifth,” Bill said as he splayed his fingers out on the page. “Your final entry, Pine Tree. You summarized everything pretty well! I didn’t even know about some of this. But you wanna know the most interesting part?”

He slammed the book shut, causing Dipper to jump.

“You wrote it like an ecstatic _kid_ ,” Bill sneered. “Not like someone who’d just been traumatized beyond their wildest nightmares. You _won._ You _beat me._ You got to _keep_ Stanley.”

Bill began to advance on Dipper, the book vanishing out of his hand in a puff of blue smoke. Dipper hesitantly backed away.

“So tell me, Pine Tree,” Bill hissed as he got near. “Where in the _universe_ did this _fear_ of yours _come from?”_

Dipper was silent, looking for all the world like he was ready to run in the opposite direction.

Bill snorted. “Why so scared, Pine Tree? I’m just _trying to get to know you._ ”

It all clicked, then, the game that Bill was playing.

Slowly, Dipper relaxed his stance and stood before Bill. Even as his heart drummed in his chest he managed to maintain eye contact. If Bill wanted to know so much, fine - he could just as easily find out himself if he found the right memories anyway. Dipper would tell him.

“I thought everything was fine,” Dipper said, his voice steady for once. “I thought it was something I could put behind me. I thought it wasn’t important after it was over.”

Bill looked surprised.

“But then the nightmares began,” Dipper continued. “I started dreaming about the end of the world - it always had something to do with you, and it was always something I couldn’t stop. I dreamed about losing everyone I loved to you. I dreamed about you chasing me and Mabel through the Fearamid, and every time, you caught us.”

Bill lifted his legs and floated in a casual sitting position, arms crossed over his chest as he listened.

“The nightmares weren’t that bad in the beginning,” Dipper admitted. “But over the years… they just got worse. And as much as I love coming back to Gravity Falls, every time that I do, I just remember you even more. I remember you, and Weirdmageddon, and part of me just… falls apart.”

“I see.” Bill continued to float in place, his expression one of disinterest - yet Dipper thought he could see something more there as well. “So it was a delayed response,” Bill went on. “Or… your nightmares hammered it into your brain so much that you _had_ to become afraid of it.” He clucked his tongue and looked off to the side. “Shame, really. If only I’d managed to scar you so much in person instead of through your dreams. But I guess dreams _are_ my specialty.”

Bill unfolded his arms and put his feet back on the ground. “Fine, kid,” he said with a sigh. “One question. Anything more than that, and you’re gonna have _horrible_ nightmares for the rest of the night.”

Many of Dipper’s nights had been dreamless since Bill showed up; he had a suspicion that Bill was blocking out his usual nightmares so he wouldn’t be exhausted in the daytime. Whatever helped them train was a priority to him. With that in mind, Dipper wondered if Bill would just unblock his usual nightmares, or if he would conjure new ones. Could he do that? Did he still have that much power in the Dreamscape when he was tied to a single mind? Dipper wanted to ask, but he wouldn’t waste his single “free” question on that. He had much more important things on his mind.

Now this was the tricky part. What could he ask that would force Bill’s honesty to tell him what he wanted to know?

“I’m waiting, Pine Tree,” Bill said as he tapped one foot on the ground.

Dipper bit his lip and looked away from Bill. He couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t just be answered with one sentence, or only cover a small fraction of who Bill was. Maybe it was worth the torment of another nightmare just to see his plan through?

Finally, he decided upon something.

“Is Bill Cipher your real name?” Dipper asked.

Bill stared at him for a moment, seemingly surprised. Then he began to laugh. “Oh, that’s a nice one, kid!” he said. “Of all the things! Alright, I’m game. Short answer: no.” He adjusted his bowtie, then summoned his cane into existence so he could lean on it. “Long answer: my _real_ name is impossible for you to say, and would drive you crazy if you tried. Not that you aren’t crazy enough. And in this language, my name’s actually ‘William’ Cipher. Nobody’s ever actually called me that, though, and if you try, you’re gonna regret it.” He chuckled and crossed one leg over the other. “You’ve got a thing about names, huh kid? I was looking through your memories, and I noticed yours is actually -”

“Where are you from?” Dipper cut in.

The smile on Bill’s face vanished.

“...You really wanna do this, Pine Tree?” he growled. “I told you, _one_ question. That’s all you get.” He hesitated, then added, “And I’m from a second dimension. The Flatlands. Happy?”

“What’s it like there?” Dipper pressed on.

Bill raised his lip to expose his sharp teeth. “You’re gonna hate your nightmares,” he said. “It’s like _nothing._ It doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Why?”

Suddenly, in a flash of light and mist, Bill was no longer in his humanoid form - he was back to being a triangle. And he was _red._

Dipper couldn’t help his initial response of shrinking back and away, cowering from the demon of his nightmares just like he had when this had began. He could feel his blood run cold as Bill stared at him with his horrible black eye, darker than anything Dipper had ever seen before.

“ _Because I burned it to the ground!"_ Bill yelled, his voice echoing throughout the Dreamscape. “They were all _flat minds_ in a _flat world_ with _flat dreams!”_ One of his hands shot out and grew in size so that it could wrap around Dipper’s middle and pin him to the nearest tree, causing Dipper to cry out in fear. “I _liberated_ them! I freed them from their endless torment of being in the most _pathetic_ dimension in the multiverse! They should have _thanked me_ as they burned!”

Panicked and terrified, Dipper squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself away from Bill and out of his grasp. After days and days of training, his energy naturally went to his forehead; Bill barely had time to react to its glow before a blast of kinetic energy separated him from Dipper. He spiraled back through the air as Dipper skidded down the path and came to a stop in a fighting position, arms raised and fists clenched.

Bill, no longer red, stared in awe at Dipper. Dipper stared back, obviously alarmed.

“Holy shit, Pine Tree,” Bill said.

Dipper unclenched his fists and looked at his hands, then reached up to touch his birthmark. “That… that was just because we’re in the Dreamscape, right?” he said. “I can do anything here. I…”

“Your mark was glowing,” said Bill. “I saw it. If this happened because of the Dreamscape, it’s only because you’re more connected to your own mind here.” He pointed at Dipper, then put his hand above his eye. “Gods, kid. You’re getting it. You’re really getting it.”

As he started to laugh, Dipper looked down at his hands again. Could it really be that easy? Or was Bill right, and it was only so easy because he was in the Dreamscape? Was it maybe a mix of both? Had he just unlocked the secret to using powers he’d never known he had?

Bill transformed back into his humanoid form and strolled towards Dipper with a grin plastered across his face. “Kid, we’re in business now!” he said. “I’m gonna be out of here in no time!” He unexpectedly grabbed Dipper’s hands, and before Dipper could pull away, Bill laughed and spun him around. “You’re not totally useless after all! In fact, you’re practically the opposite!”

“Uh, thanks,” Dipper said as he yanked his hands back and stumbled away from Bill. He was already reeling from everything that had happened before he’d blasted himself away - he didn’t need Bill _touching_ him. “Look, maybe it’s time for me to go…”

Bill waved a hand and shook his head. “No, no,” he said. “You earned this, Pine Tree. I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Really?!” Dipper couldn't help the excitement and surprise in his voice. 

“Sure!” Bill replied with a toothy smile. “What’s it matter anyway? Weirdmageddon 2.0 is almost upon us! Ask away, kid.”

It was strange, Dipper thought, how fast Bill could ricochet between emotional states. Or maybe it wasn’t strange at all; Bill _was_ a master of chaos, and in all likelihood, he was completely crazy. It made him that much more terrifying. Still… Dipper was thankful for the opportunity to enact his plan once again. It was still the best thing he could think to do in his position.

After all, didn’t they say to keep your enemies close?

“I wanna know more about you, Bill,” said Dipper as he leaned against the nearest tree, trying to still his shaking limbs. “I wanna hear the whole story. From beginning to now.”

Bill’s smile faded, but the anger from before didn’t resurface. “I guess that’s fair enough,” he said. “It’s nothing you can do any damage with anyway.”

“You just don’t like talking about it, do you?” Dipper asked.

Bill chuckled softly and shook his head. “Kid, I haven’t said most of this stuff aloud to _anyone,_ ” he said. “I don’t even like _thinking_ about it. But you’ve impressed me, so think of this as a little positive reinforcement.”

Dipper sat down at the base of the tree as Bill began to tell his tale.

* * *

“Trillions of years ago, I was born. And when I say ‘born’, I don’t mean I came squealing out of my mom - but it’s the closest approximation to what really happened that I can give you. I came into existence in a place called The Flatlands, a second dimension made up of all sorts of what you humans call ‘geometric shapes’. We called ourselves something else, but I can’t even  begin to translate my native language into yours.

“In The Flatlands, we had a strict hierarchy. Think of it like your medieval kings and queens, all the way down to the serfs and servants. The highest of society were the circles - big, commanding guys who could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. And at the bottom? Triangles. Yeah, you heard me right, kid. I was born into the bottom of the food chain. Imagine that! _Me,_ the lowest of the low! Mom and Dad always tried to say it was just the way things were, but after a few hundred years, I was pretty sick of it.

“Now, here’s where things get interesting, Pine Tree. See, once upon a time, I was kinda like _you._ An aimless idiot trying to make sense of his place in life, who just so happened to have powers he didn’t know about. I’ve found out that in this world, the triangle is the alchemical symbol for fire. Pretty fitting considering that was what I learned first.

“Turns out an uprising is hard to do in that kind of society. No one agreed with me - ‘this is just how it is’, they said - and the circles and other bigwigs weren’t threatened by my abilities. Or if they were, they sure hid it well. They basically told me I was practicing parlor tricks and told me to get lost. And it’s not like I could just kill one of them to see how they’d react - they’d kill me right back. And then where would I be? So I had to make a decision. Live life in the slums with my friends and family, or liberate the entire dimension for the greater good.

“Obviously you know what I picked.

“I broke out of the dimension myself, but no one followed me. They _couldn’t._ That was about when I started to realize how powerful I really was. I had to do something with that power, something great; in the end, I was leading a pack of cronies through the most lawless place in the universe.

“See, when I broke out of The Flatlands, I ended up in the place _between_ dimensions. You should know it - we call it ‘the Nightmare Realm.’ Space and time have no meaning there, and the rules of physics and everything else are entirely irrelevant. It was a chaotic place, and it needed a chaotic god! So over the course of a few years, I impressed a couple of henchmonsters with my abilities and got them to follow me, and together, we took over the Nightmare Realm for good. Or so I thought.

“Y’see, kid, the lawlessness of the Nightmare Realm is kind of its undoing. It’s always been fated to eventually self-destruct under its own weight. I was pretty mad when I found out; I didn’t want my new home to fall to pieces! Especially not while I was living it up as ruler! But there was a silver lining, and it was in the third dimension.

“There was a prophecy. It stated that if a portal were to be constructed into the third dimension, the Nightmare Realm could survive by merging with it. Thing is, out in the Nightmare side of things, I had no way to connect anything. But that’s when I learned of another ability I had - the ability to enter _the Dreamscape._

“Without a physical form, I could never enter your world, but I _could_ break into the dreams of humans as much as I wanted to. So that’s how I started my plan to merge our worlds and create eternal chaos! Pretty ingenious, right? There was just one problem. Y’see, when I started entering dreams, humans had only just begun building civilizations. Their technology with a primitive mess, and even though I could inspire them to build towering monuments in my likeness, there was nothing I could do that would bridge our worlds together. The ability to do so was still out of reach. I had to wait for the _right_ humans to come along.

“Well, as it turns out, I’m not a good judge of what the right human _is._ I think you’ve figured that out by now, Pine Tree. I kept visiting the dreams of each civilization I could find, picking out the leaders and the scrappy underdogs, basically throwing darts at a board in the hopes that I would land on someone with the ability to do what I needed. Magic isn’t terribly common in humans, but I sought out the magic-users as best I could, figuring maybe they could do what I wanted if technology couldn’t.

“That’s how I came across Modoc.

“He was the shaman for a tribe of natives that lived in the valley you now know as Gravity Falls. Believe it or not, he and his tribe are the reason I started focusing on Gravity Falls in the first place. Maybe that’s what caused the weakness in the barrier there. Or maybe it was always there. I’d love to take credit, but I honestly don’t know. What I do know - or did know - was that Modoc seemed like my best bet for a portal.

“He wasn’t a super technical guy, but he had magical abilities out the wazoo. It’s what made him shaman of his tribe, see, he could _genuinely_ do things most shamans just prayed to their gods to do for them. He seemed so promising that I took a real shine to him; guess that’s how I became such a revered figure in their culture. They made all sorts of stuff with me on it - rugs, blankets, pottery, wood carvings, you name it. Modoc told them that I would herald them into a new age of spirituality. Of course, that’s just the bull I fed him when I was getting on his good side.

“Things were going well. We were discussing making a bridge between worlds, Modoc trusted me, his whole tribe trusted me - things were good. Then he finally gets around to making a portal, and… Well, it was made out of twigs. And the magic poured into it didn’t do squat. I was disappointed, and I let Modoc know. I told him he needed to try harder, build better, use more power - so the wise guy decides to confer with the spirits. Figures maybe they can help him please me. I don’t know what spirits he contacted, but they told him some things I’d rather they didn’t.

“He came back with a prophecy to warn his people. His interactions with me would lead to the apocalypse, he said. The spirits had given him ten symbols that could be used to ‘defeat’ me, but the natives didn’t have any of those symbols. So they wrote down how to summon me, and they wrote down the symbols, and they left a warning for anyone who would read it to never involve themselves with me.

“The final straw for them was Modoc. I kept trying to get him to understand what was at stake, what I needed, what I would _do_ to get it. He tried to stay awake to avoid me, tried to exorcise me - nothing worked. So in the end, he set himself on fire, killing himself and making me lose access to a powerful mind. The rest of the natives packed up after that and left everything behind. Called this place ‘cursed land’ and would never set foot on it again.

“It was a long time before I got another break, kid. Maybe not that long in the grand scheme of things - I am, after all, trillions of years old - but long enough that I got frustrated. I could see the little cracks and tears in the Nightmare Realm, things no one else noticed. I knew I needed a gateway to the third dimension and I needed it fast. I hopped from mind to mind, and I found myself constantly returning to Gravity Falls, drawn by more frequent occurrences of magic users. When it came down to it, though, magic ended up flying out the window in the face of technology, because someone was finally adept enough to do what I needed with _science._

“That person, as I’m sure you know, was Stanford Pines.

“Sixer was just as enamored with me as the natives before him, and the Egyptians way before that. I was his ‘muse’, you see. I was the mysterious key to unlocking everything he needed to know, because the walls of the cave said I had unending knowledge. He summoned me into his head, Pine Tree. And in that head I found everything I ever needed. I told him everything he needed to hear, every lie I could come up with, and one truth: the weirdness of Gravity Falls was coming from a ‘weird dimension’ that he could make a portal to.

“If Glasses hadn’t slipped in and caught me at a bad time, it coulda happened, kid. I was so close. But Sixer got suspicious, and I got cocky, and I told him the truth. I thought I’d already won. But he shut the portal down, tried to keep himself awake… I didn’t let him know, but I was scared he would be the next Modoc. I thought he’d kill himself before I got what I wanted. I was _so close!_

“But then he made a mistake. He trusted his stupid brother. And that brother knocked him through the portal, right into the Nightmare Realm. I hunted Sixer for a long time, kid! He slipped out of the Nightmare Realm before my guys could catch him, but I kept my eye out for him for thirty years.

“Then, in a petty act of revenge, Gideon summoned me from a passage in one of Sixer’s journals. I had access to a mind again, and more importantly, I was near the blueprints for the portal, which Sixer drew across all three of those books of his. You know that part of the story. Hell, you lived it. Need I say more?

“Ah, but you asked all the way up until now. So I’ll let you in on one last bit. When I finally came to after Sixer’s brother remembered me, I met up with Ax. Ever heard of him? Probably not. Well, he’s a God, to put it in terms you can understand. He was the one who told me about your power. He told me I needed you, and he was right. I dunno what _his_ plan was, but you fit perfectly into _mine_ , kid. And that’s what matters, isn’t it?

“And now, here we are.”

* * *

“Wow,” Dipper said as he looked up at Bill from his place at the base of the tree. “That’s… wow. You’ve lived quite a life, Bill.”

Bill grinned and tipped his top hat. “Sure have, kid,” he said. “And it’s only just getting started. Once I merge our worlds together, the party’s never gonna stop.”

Dipper leaned back against the tree and looked up into its branches, considering everything he’d just heard. Some of it he already knew from Journal 3 and Ford; other things were brand new. Perhaps most shockingly of all, the story really did show a glimmer of humanity in Bill, something just a little bit more than his chaos and fury. Even so, Dipper wondered if there was more.

“Do you regret what you did to your home dimension?”

Bill’s grin vanished. He looked at Dipper for a moment, frowned, then turned away.

“What did I tell you about asking questions, Pine Tree?” he said. “You already went over your limit. I was willing to forgive you, but…” He hesitated for a moment, one foot tapping against the ground. Dipper waited.

“...Yeah,” Bill finally said, and it was like the word was being forcefully dragged from his lips. “I… sometimes feel like… maybe I could have done things differently. And sometimes, I… miss… home.” He hunched his shoulders and didn’t look back. “Happy?”

“I’m sorry, Bill.”

Now he did look back, eyes wide and face unreadable. Was he surprised? Angry? Dipper didn’t know. He looked back at Bill steadily, challenging him to reply. It had taken a lot for him to muster up the guts to even say those words. He never thought he could feel sorry for Bill Cipher, and in a lot of ways, he still didn’t. But the way Bill spat out each word as he resisted emotions he obviously felt…

Then Bill’s eyes narrowed, and he turned his whole body back towards Dipper. “I don’t need your pity,” he hissed, and with a snap of his fingers the Dreamscape vanished and Dipper was dropped into unconsciousness.

He had no nightmares that night.


	6. A Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After weeks of torment, Dipper finally gets a day to relax and unwind. Or so he thinks...

“No,” Dipper whispered in horror. “Please, _no._ ”

As he stood at the base of the stairs, still dressed in underwear and tee-shirt, the most horrifying thing he had ever seen was taking place in the living room. He had no time to stop it, barely any time to react. It was already underway. And it was worse than anything Bill could _ever_ do.

“Here ya go, kid,” said Stan as he dropped his car keys into Mabel’s waiting hands.

“ _No!_ ” Dipper yelled dramatically as he fell to his knees and raised his fists to the sky. “Why, cruel fate?! Why would you let this _happen?_ ”

 _What the hell is this,_ Bill deadpanned.

Mabel giggled and jingled the keys in Dipper’s direction. “Better believe it, bro-bro!” she said. “You and I are going out for lunch! Go get dressed.”

“Was I truly fated to die this way?” Dipper asked as he folded over and pounded his fists on the ground. “Oh, let there be some miracle by which I survive!”

Stan stared at Dipper, glanced at Mabel, then looked at Dipper again. “Is, uh… Is everything alright?” he asked uncertainly. “Is there something I need to know about?”

“He’s always like this when I drive,” said Mabel with a wave of her hand. “It was just one fender bender! Geez, Dip. Dial down the drama.”

“ _Cruel fate!”_ Dipper yelled as he fell onto his side and curled into a ball.

 _What in the world are you doing?_ Bill asked. _You’re not about to die. Calm down._

 _It’s a joke, Bill,_ Dipper replied. _I’m just having fun._

 _Your idea of fun is weird,_ Bill said.

Mabel walked over to her brother and reached down to grab him by the arm. “Come on, Dipper,” she said as he started to lift him up. “Let’s go put on some pants!”

“Please don’t help me put on my pants,” Dipper said as he shoved himself away from the floor and stood up with Mabel’s help. “I promise I can do it myself.”

“History has proven otherwise,” said Mabel. “Now let’s go! Back up the stairs! Chop chop!”

With an exaggerated grumble, Dipper began to ascend the stairs. It figured that Mabel would want to take him out; he had been going into the backyard to ‘think about things’ for so long that she must have been worried. It would be an outing to get his mind off of things, an easy lunch where she could make sure he was alright.

 _Wait, how long is this going to take?_ Bill asked as Dipper entered the attic. _We have training to do!_

“Call it off for today, Bill,” Dipper said, quietly enough so that no one downstairs would hear him. He hated that he preferred talking to Bill out loud - someone would eventually catch him, and he was going to seem absolutely _bonkers._ “Mabel’s made up her mind. There’s no getting out of it.”

_But what about what you did last night?! This is huge! We have to try and replicate it in the real world!_

“Right,” said Dipper as he picked through his shirts. “Because being able to blast myself away from things is really going to get you into the mortal plane.” He pulled out a dark graphic tee and inspected it for a moment before setting it aside to change into. “I mean, it’s cool and all, but I told you Mabel already made up her mind. We’ll just have to see what I can do later.”

Bill made a sound of indignation. _You were amazed by your own abilities in the Dreamscape,_ he said. _And now it’s just ‘cool’? Now you’d rather go out with your stupid sibling?_

“I told you, man,” Dipper said, “there’s no getting out of it.”

In truth, he was grateful for the distraction, and being able to comfortably hide behind the idea that Mabel was an unstoppable force. The night before had been… hectic. Dipper was almost surprised Bill was even talking to him after he’d shown ‘pity’. And though he’d been able to push past it in the moment - quite literally! - he was still seeing flashes of Bill pinning him to the tree behind his eyelids, and it was terrifying to think about. A nice outing with Mabel would be just the thing to get him back in working order.

...Or as ‘working order’ as he ever was these days.

Bill seemed to consider Dipper’s thoughts before speaking again. _You know,_ he said, _I can’t just_ not _talk to you. I mean, I could, of course, but… The unfortunate fact of the matter is that I_ need _you, Pine Tree. So I’m willing to put last night behind us if you are._

“Nah,” said Dipper as he rummaged through his pants.

_What? You were just thinking -_

“You freaked me out again, yeah,” Dipper said. “But I’m not putting what you said behind me. I went in there to learn more about you, and I did, and I’m not just going to handwave all of that away.”

 _Why are you even doing this?_ Bill asked. _I was there when you came up with it, but I still don’t get it. What are you hoping to gain by knowing_ anything _about me? Do you think you can defeat me with this?_

Dipper sighed and threw a pair of jeans onto his bed, then sat down beside them and put his elbows on his knees. “No, that’s not it,” he said. “It’s more… I’m trying to make the best of a bad situation, Bill. I don’t _know_ how to beat you this time. Hell, I didn’t know how to beat you _last_ time. This is more about making my current living situation more tolerable. By, you know… _understanding_ you. If I can make sense of it, maybe it won’t be so terrifying.”

_Is that why you made this stupid honesty deal?_

“Kind of, yeah.” Dipper looked up and out of the triangle-shaped window, into the bright blue skies outside. “I mean, I was sort of freaking out and couldn’t think of anything else, but… I thought if I had total transparency with you, maybe it’d work out. And besides…”

He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself for what he was going to say next. Bill waited, making no sound.

“Maybe if I understand you, and _know_ you, maybe… Maybe I can take you up on your offer. And my family won’t have to suffer.”

Bill laughed. _Really, kid? You wanna_ get to know me _before deciding to let me spare you and your loved ones? You’ve got strange priorities. But whatever helps you sleep at night. Which, hey - I’m good for that! And I promise, you’ll love being one of my freaks!_

“Right,” said Dipper. “I’m sure I -”

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. “Dipper?” Mabel called. “Are you talking to yourself in there? You better have your pants on!”

“Shit,” Dipper swore under his breath as he stood up and grabbed his pants. “Uh, one sec!” he called as he started to put them on. He managed to step into one leg, but as he tried to jam his foot into the other, he lost his balance and went tumbling to the floor.

Mabel opened the door as Dipper rolled onto his side and groaned in pain.

“I knew it,” she said with a shake of her head. “You can’t put your own pants on.”

“Stay away from me,” Dipper said as she began to approach him. “I can put them on! You just startled me!”

“Too late, Dip,” said Mabel as she crouched down and reached for his pants. “You’ve proven yourself to be incapable of dressing by yourself. Let your big sister help.”

“No!” Dipper yelled, but Mabel persisted, and the next several moments were spent in a struggle as the two of them fought for the right to pull Dipper’s pants up. Dipper had a commanding lead, but Mabel managed to overpower him and lay him flat on his back before yanking his jeans up and buttoning them. After trying furiously to shove his sister away, Dipper finally conceded defeat and sprawled out flat, arms outstretched at his sides.

“There, was that so hard?” Mabel asked as she stood up and put her hands on her hips.

“I feel emasculated and utterly defeated,” Dipper replied. “So yes.”

 _Hm. I guess Shooting Star is still the more dominant twin,_ Bill mused.

 _Don’t even say that,_ Dipper said. _That’s not fair._

 _She just overpowered you for control of your_ pants, _Pine Tree._

Mabel leaned over and offered her hand, and for the second time that morning, Dipper took it and allowed her to help him stand back up.

“So, lunch, huh?” Dipper said, as if the pants fiasco hadn’t just occurred. “Greasy’s Diner?”

“You betcha!” Mabel replied with a grin. “Best food in Gravity Falls!”

“Highly debatable.” Dipper returned to his bed and took off the shirt he’d been wearing so he could put on the graphic tee he’d picked out a few moments prior. “I assume you’ll be paying, then?” he asked.

“Only because you’ve been so down lately,” said Mabel as she thumped her brother on the back. “Don’t get used to it, Dippin’ Dots!”

Dipper chuckled and smoothed out his shirt, then grabbed his nearby hoodie and threw it on as well. “You’re so kind,” he said as he sat back down on the edge of his bed and began to put on his shoes. Mabel offered him a grin, then turned to the door as Waddles made his way inside, snuffling at the ground.

“Did someone miss Mommy?” Mabel cooed at her pig as Dipper stood up and grabbed his trapper hat off of the nightstand. “You stay here and be good while me and Uncle Dipper go grab food, okay? Promise we’ll bring back leftovers!”

“I’ll make sure to get bacon,” Dipper said as he leaned over to pat Waddles’ head.

Mabel punched her brother in the shoulder. “Dipper!”

“Sorry,” Dipper said, snickering. They both knew he wasn’t sorry at all.

As the twins left their room and started heading back down the stairs, Bill piped up again, sounding both contemplative and amused as he spoke.

 _You know, I was thinking about just possessing you and forcing you to stay home and practice,_ he said. _But if Sixer saw me, he would have recognized me on the spot. And I have my doubts that your sister would believe it for very long either. So then I thought maybe I’d blackmail you with some good old nightmares, but as you proved last night, that doesn’t work._

 _What’s your point?_ Dipper thought back as he clenched and unclenched his fists as his sides.

 _My point,_ said Bill, _is that I’ve got nothing. Unless you’re alone again and I can possess you and lock you behind a door, that is. But y’know what? Maybe you’ve earned a day off._

Dipper squinted and glanced at his sister as they entered the living room, then down at the ground. That didn’t sound right. It didn’t sound like _Bill._ Then again, he had offered his entire backstory as ‘positive reinforcement’...

 _That’s right,_ Bill said. _I did do that. And you can consider this day more positive reinforcement! I mean, really, what choice do I have? I’m backed into a corner trying to stay unseen by your annoying family, and you’re standing up to me now. If I can’t use force or fear, why not go easy on you?_

There was a pause.

 _Pine Tree, I_ hate _this honesty thing. But I’m actually kind of impressed that you came up with it. It’s like some kind of advanced torture technique._

Dipper smiled to himself. That _was_ a pretty good idea, wasn’t it? And he’d thought of it in the middle of a complete panic attack! He was really making the best of this awful situation.

His smile fell, then, as the rest of his current reality fell down upon him. He was making the best of a bad situation, sure, but it was still a _bad situation._ The truth was that he could only stand up to Bill so much; the nightmares would still wear him down, and possession would always be a possibility. What lengths might Bill go to if he refused to help at all? As every worst-case scenario ran through Dipper’s mind, he knew Bill would be cataloging every thought. He couldn’t even come up with a plan to prevent any of those scenarios - Bill would know it the moment it popped into his head.

Bill was backed into a corner on going easy on him for the sake of good relations, but Dipper was still backed into a corner on helping fulfill his end of the deal and bringing about the second apocalypse. He was only delaying the inevitable.

 _Glad you know what the score is, kid,_ said Bill, insufferably smug.

Dipper must have looked as miserable as he felt in that moment, because as Ford rounded the corner into the living room and almost bumped into him, he stopped and grabbed Dipper by the shoulders with an expression of deep worry on his face.

“Are you alright, Dipper?” he asked, and Mabel stopped walking and looked back at the two of them.

“I’m fine,” Dipper said with the best smile that he could muster. “Just… thinking about stuff, I guess.”

“I hope you’re not thinking about the Nightmare Realm too much,” Ford said with a frown. “Dipper, I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about coming out with me anymore. While you and your sister have lunch, I’m going to take Stanley out into the woods with me.”

Dipper’s face fell. “Is this about what happened at the statue?” he asked. “I promise it won’t happen again, I was just -”

“This isn’t a punishment,” Ford interjected. “It’s a precaution. But if you still want to help, we can go out together at a later date.” He smiled, then, and squeezed Dipper’s shoulders. “I’m just trying to make this easier on you, alright? The less stressed you are, the better.”

 _Gotta agree with that, Sixer,_ said Bill with a chuckle. _If only you knew the reasons, though!_

 _You’re not helping me feel less stressed,_ Dipper thought back.

_Oh, calm down, Pine Tree. This is your day off, remember?_

“Yeah,” Dipper said aloud with a sigh. “I guess so, Grunkle Ford. Thanks for looking out for me.” He smiled again, but he felt tired and defeated. And something in Ford’s face told him that his Great Uncle could tell.

“You two go have fun,” said Ford as he let go of Dipper’s shoulders and pushed him back towards Mabel. “Don’t worry about anything today. Consider this your day off!”

“Ugh,” came Stan’s voice from the kitchen. “I ain’t even workin’ at the Shack anymore and those words still haunt me.”

Mabel lit up and put a hand on Dipper’s arm at the mention of the Shack. “Hey, let’s go through the gift shop!” she said. “We can say hi to Soos and Melody on our way out!”

Dipper smiled and waved at Ford, then followed Mabel as she led the way to the front room where the gift shop was located. He could still feel Ford looking at him as they went - he was worried, and rightly so. Could he have any possible idea what was going on?

 _Sixer’s not that bright, kid,_ said Bill. _You gotta wave things in front of his nose before he catches on._

Dipper sighed.

The gift shop had only a few tourists milling about, and as the twins entered, Soos and Melody were talking together at the front counter. As they came close, Melody noticed them, and then Soos turned to see them as well, lighting up when he did.

“Hey little dudes!” he greeted. He looked about to say more, but then his grin fell a bit as he laid eyes on Dipper.

“Yo, dude,” he said, “are you feelin’ okay?”

Mabel gave her brother a sympathetic look as he attempted another smile. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “Just, uh, tired, you know?”

“You look really sad for someone who’s just tired,” said Melody, her tone sympathetic as she folded her arms on the counter.

“She’s right, dude,” said Soos. He seemed to think for a moment, then snapped his fingers and spoke again. “Hey, you know what cheers me up when I’m feeling down?”

“Your infinity pizza?” Mabel guessed.

Soos raised a hand and shook his head. “Nah dude, that’s for like, anytime snacking. I got something even better for bad moods: Peep Jousting.”

Melody giggled as Dipper raised an eyebrow. “Peep Jousting?” he asked. “Like, as in, marshmallow Peeps?”

“Totally dude!” Soos lifted his eyepatch so he could look at the twins with both eyes. “It’s the ultimate showdown! Marshmallow versus marshmallow, to the death!”

Dipper and Mabel looked at each other, then back at Soos. “Okay,” said Dipper. “You have us hooked. How do you do it?”

“First, you go out and get some multi-colored Peeps,” Soos said excitedly. “You gotta color-code your champions, dudes! Then you get some toothpicks, and you put ‘em under the Peeps’s wings. They gotta be on the same side of both Peeps! Then you put them in the microwave…”

“Woah, won’t that blow them up?” Mabel cut in. She would know - she and Dipper had exploded many a Peep throughout the years, especially around Easter. Their parents had banned them from the house at some point, but the twins always found a way to sneak a few into _some_ microwave.

“Yeah, dude, but not all at once!” Soos continued. “They start, like, inflating first! So what you do is you put the Peeps across from each other, and when they start blowin’ up, whichever Peep sinks their toothpick into the other first wins!”

“What do you do with the winner?” Dipper asked, utterly enthralled. For a brief, blissful moment, there was nothing in the world but this incredible new activity. 

“You give them an honorable death,” said Soos, “by eating them. Also, you can totally place bets on Peeps and rewards yourselves for whoever wins!”

“Oh my god, we’re totally buying Peeps on the way home!” Mabel yelled, her arms in the air.

“Hell yeah!” Dipper said as he raised his hand for a high-five.

 _Simulated battles to the death using exploding food? Maybe you kids do know how to have fun,_ Bill mused. 

For once, Bill's voice didn't immediately make Dipper feel dread; he was too pumped about getting to blow up marshmallows in the microwave. If Bill enjoyed it, fine. Dipper could concede that some things were just universally enjoyable.

“There’s that smile!” Soos said with a grin as he looked at Dipper. “See dude? Peep Jousting is the ultimate fun-time sport! It can make anyone’s frown turn upside-down!”

Mabel wrapped an arm around Dipper’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Perfect for us, then,” she said as she patted her brother’s chest with her other hand. “Right Dip?”

“Sure,” Dipper said with a roll of his eyes, but he was still smiling. This sounded like so much fun! He wanted to get to it right away, but first…

“Don’t we have a lunch to get to?” he asked.

Mabel squeezed his shoulder, then let go. “That we do!” she said triumphantly. “And _I’m_ driving!”

“Pray for us,” Dipper said to Soos and Melody as his sister grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the front door.

“I’ll always remember you, dudes!” Soos called before the door slammed shut.

“Geez, everyone's being so _dramatic,”_ said Mabel as they walked towards the car. She was smiling as she said it, though; she loved it. Being the destructive, reckless twin was one of her favorite things - even if she was just playing it up for laughs most of the time.

Dipper chuckled and leaned against the passenger’s door as Mabel came to the realization that there was only a key, and no keyfob, and the car had to manually be unlocked. “You kind of invite the drama, Mabel,” he said. “Though I’ll admit my act was a little… over the top.”

 _I’ll say,_ Bill piped up. _You act like you’re more afraid of her than you are of_ me.

 _Wouldn’t that be something,_ Dipper thought idly.

“Maybe a little,” Mabel conceded as she got the driver’s side door unlocked and slid into the seat. “But you get an A for effort.”

Once they were both in the car and buckled up, Mabel started the engine and, after a moment of figuring out the old and very worn stick shift, they were on their way. The car’s age was obvious - it creaked and groaned as it started, and upon closer inspection, Dipper found that the AC no longer appeared to be in working order. He sighed and, without comment, rolled the window down.

He expected Mabel to turn the radio on and start singing along to the newest pop sensation (or maybe the oldest, 80s-est thing she could find). What he didn’t expect was for her to break the silence by asking him,

“Dipper, are you okay?”

Dipper turned away from the window to look at his sister, who appeared worried even as she kept her eyes on the road ahead. The light, cheerful vibe of the morning seemed to fly out the open window and her words sank in, piercing through the happy bubble of Peep Jousting that had kept him feeling alright up until then.

_Are you okay?_

Bill said nothing to Dipper’s sudden frantic thoughts.

“... I…”

“I mean, I know you’re not,” Mabel went on in a hurry. “You’re always by yourself, you’re… You’ve been out in the backyard so much, and you haven’t gone to see Pacifica or Wendy yet, and I just…” She let out a tense sigh and glanced over at him. “I’m _worried_ , Dip.”

The air coming in through the window smelled of pine needles and tree sap. Dipper tried to focus on that, tried to escape the moment he was suddenly in. He tried to think about the Peeps they would be exploding later, or how delighted Soos was talking about it. 

“Was it really just seeing Bill again? Or is there something else going on?”

“Mabel…” Dipper reached up to take his hat off so he could run his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t been expecting this, wasn’t ready for it - but shouldn’t he have been? Shouldn’t he have known she would bring this up, sooner or later? He and Bill - it was horrible, thinking of them as some package deal - didn’t exist in a vacuum, and neither did all of Dipper’s strange new habits.

Developing his trauma over Weirdmageddon was one thing, sure, but _this_ …

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Dipper said after a long stretch of uncomfortable silence. “I just… I want to have a nice time, Mabel. This is my day off, remember?”

Mabel bit her lip and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Dipper ached to reach out to her, but he kept to himself, his hands clenched in his lap.

“Okay,” Mabel said. “Okay, Dipper. But… _are_ you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Dipper lied. And he could tell that she knew he was lying.

The rest of the ride into town was spent with the radio on but not too loud, and Dipper managed to find a station that played enough of “the oldies and today” to satisfy the both of them. As they drove, he kept his gaze out the window, watching the townsfolk pass by with a certain degree of apathy that didn’t feel right. He saw Tad Strange, Sheriff Blubbs and Deputy Durland, Robbie and his group of friends, even Mayor Cutebiker - but none of them evoked any feeling in him. All he could think about was Mabel… and Bill.

 _Sheesh, kid, lighten up,_ Bill said. _It’s your day off! No training, no working in that horrible Shack, just some nice… eating, or whatever it is you’re going to do._

The phrase ‘horrible’ in reference to the Shack seemed odd. Sure, Bill didn’t like anything having to do with Stan or Ford, but what made it _horrible?_ Then Dipper recalled that they had used the Shack to physically fight Bill - almost beating him in the process - and had even kept him out of it successfully. In fact, hadn't Mabel gone on some quest for Ford specifically to make the Shack impenetrable? 

Dipper sat up straighter in his seat and furrowed his brow.

 _Please,_ Bill scoffed. _You think some spell involving unicorn hair is going to last forever?_

 _Isn’t that the point?_ Dipper thought back.

 _No, that sort of thing needs to be maintained,_ Bill replied. _But everyone assumes I’m dead, so ol’ Fordsy apparently hasn’t been keeping up with it. Otherwise…_

He was silent for a few moments, and Dipper leaned back in his seat again.

 _...I’m not actually sure what would happen,_ said Bill. _I’m not sure I can be properly expelled from your mind in this state. Maybe_ you _wouldn’t be able to enter the Shack!_

 _Wouldn’t that be something,_ Dipper mused. _Maybe then they’d figure out what was happening. Grunkle Ford would. And then you’d be gone._

Bill laughed. _Yeah, keep dreamin’, kid! That barrier is dust and you’re stuck with me until I get out of your head and into the real world. Besides, haven’t you already come to terms with your fate? Aren’t you trying to ‘make the best of a bad situation’?_

Dipper sighed and rested his elbow on the car door. _Yeah. And that’s just going splendidly._

_You wrestled my whole backstory out of me, didn’t you? Don’t sound so glum, Pine Tree._

Dipper rested his chin in the palm of his hand and stared out at the passing town. He didn’t _feel_ glum until he was reminded of his situation. If he could just forget it for a while, just… relax without having to worry about the nightmares, or the powers, or _Bill…_

How was he supposed to forget a being twisted and tangled up in his own thoughts?

God, even after Bill was gone, how was he ever going to _think_ without feeling he was being listened to every step of the way?

Bill offered no answers.

By the time they pulled into the parking lot at Greasy’s Diner, Mabel was happily singing along to some classic 80s song and seemed to have put the tense conversation from earlier behind her. Dipper unbuckled his seatbelt and began to crank the window back up as she parked, then put his hand on the door handle and looked back over at his sister. Whenever she parked, Mabel made a point of not turning the radio off until the song she was listening to was over - unless she didn’t like the song. But she certainly liked _this_ one, and Dipper had a feeling he was going to be waiting a while.

He stepped out of the car and shut the door before stretching his arms up over his head. After his back cracked, he lowered his hands and looked around. Everything seemed pretty normal, and looked the same as it ever had… Except for the shiny, brand-new baby blue convertible parked a few spaces away. One glance back into the car told Dipper that Mabel hadn’t noticed it yet.

As his thoughts formed an image of who he was sure the car belonged to, Bill spoke up again.

 _That stinking little_ piglet _is here?_ he snarled. _Isn’t he too upscale for a place like this?_

 _What’s with all this animosity towards Gideon?_ Dipper asked.

Bill made an aggravated sound. _Where do you think it comes from?_ he shot back. _The little twerp betrayed me! All for, what,_ love? _I got him to work_ with _me for love! For your sister! But then he turned it around, suddenly decided instead of being obsessive, he was going to try and be_ worthy of loving. _What a load of -_

Dipper grimaced as Bill paused. He couldn’t help the thoughts that went through his head. He had figured Bill would have known already, but apparently he hadn’t gone through _every_ memory from Weirdmageddon…

 _It was you,_ Bill deadpanned. _You convinced him to change._

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck and leaned up against the side of the car. What was he supposed to say to that? Defend himself? What was even the point?

But Bill surprised him, as he was so fond of doing.

 _Man, kid, you’re_ good! _Ahaha!_

_...Huh?_

_Human love - it’s so ridiculous,_ Bill said. _You obsess over your desired mate like wild animals, and then try to justify it with all this ‘soulmate’ tripe. And Gideon, he was king of love! Obsessive to a fault! And selfish, oh,_ so _selfish. He wanted Shooting Star all to himself, and it didn’t matter how she felt. Or how_ anyone _felt. It was textbook, kid. But then you come along… And you_ change _that. You change basic human nature in your favor. Color me impressed!_

Dipper felt uncomfortable as Bill spoke - moreso than usual. He had shown Gideon the error of his ways, not… _changed_ him. Right? Honestly, though, what did he expect from Bill?

As the song finally ended and Mabel shut the car off behind him, Dipper asked, _Is demon love different somehow?_

Bill was silent for a moment as Mabel stepped out of the car.

 _Not really,_ he finally said. _Don’t know why I specified humans._ His voice had taken on a sort of angry melancholy, something Dipper wasn’t used to from him. _Love is the same everywhere, Pine Tree - it’s a game of selfishness and lies. Settling down because you_ should, _not because you_ want to _. Telling yourself you would give your life for someone you can’t stand, just because you made spawn together, or because you’re afraid to be alone. All across the universe, it’s the same damn thing._

“Ready to go inside, Dip?” Mabel asked as she locked the car and stuffed the keys into her purse.

Dipper shook his head and turned to his sister. “Uh, yeah. Let’s go.”

Mabel apparently still hadn’t noticed the car, because she walked into the diner without further comment, humming the song she’d been singing along to. Dipper slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans and followed behind.

“Hi Susan!” Mabel greeted excitedly as they entered. Lazy Susan looked up, lifted her eyelid with her long nails, then lit up and rushed around the counter to greet them in return.

“Hey darlings!” she said as she gave Mabel a hug. “How are you two? You’re getting so big!” Dipper grunted as she hugged him as well - he would have tried to get away before she got him, but she was lightning fast with her hugs.

“We’re great,” Mabel said with a smile. “I drove us here!”

“Did you? In Stan’s old car?” Lazy Susan looked both surprised and impressed. “I can’t believe that thing still goes anywhere!”

Mabel giggled. “Besides the AC not working, it’s fine!” she said. “It didn’t stall out once!”

“That’s more on you actually being a competent driver,” said Dipper, “so props to you, sis.”

It was then that the light, childish voice rang out across the diner: “Yoo-hoo!”

Dipper already knew who he was turning to face, but Mabel seemed genuinely surprised.

“ _Gideon?_ ” She couldn’t seem to help the grimace that crossed her face, but Gideon didn’t seem to mind, or maybe he didn’t notice.

“Hey y’all!” he said as he beckoned them over. “Come on and sit down by lil’ ol’ me! I haven’t seen y’all in a dog’s age!”

“It’s only been a year, Gid,” Dipper said as he strolled over and slid into the booth opposite ‘little’ Gideon Gleeful (who, for the record, was not so little anymore). “Where were you when we got here?”

“Shucks, I was busy with the Tent,” Gideon replied as he waved his fork about. “Mabel, why don’t you come here and sit with us?” He smiled and patted the space next to himself, but Mabel politely declined and sat by her brother instead.

Much like with Pacifica, relations with Gideon had improved vastly since Weirdmageddon. He genuinely enjoyed the Pines twins as friends, and would often try to give them expensive gifts and invite them out to extravagant outings. Dipper had once remarked that he and Pacifica were perfect for each other, but alas - Gideon’s crush on Mabel was as strong as ever. Not like Dipper didn’t understand. Mabel was still skeeved out by it, but she made do and kept her boundaries clear.

“What can I get you, darlings?” Lazy Susan asked as she came over to the table. “And do you need anything refilled, Gideon?”

“Aw, I’m fine, but thank you kindly,” Gideon said with a wave of his hand. “And don’t you two worry about the bill! I got it covered.”

“Uh… I’ll have pancakes,” Mabel said, seeming a bit off-put. “And some tea.”

“Cheeseburger and a Pitt,” said Dipper without looking away from Gideon. “So what are you doing here at Greasy’s, anyway? Not usually your kind of place, Gideon.”

Gideon took a small sip from his glass of water before replying. “Well, yes, it’s below my standards,” he said with a wave of his hand, “but I was _really_ in the mood for some good ol’ fashioned hillbilly food. Y’all know what I mean? Besides, the wait staff here is just _lovely!_ ”

“They really are great,” said Mabel. “Um, look… I was actually bringing Dipper out to spend some one-on-one time with him…”

Gideon held up a hand. “Say no more, love, I’ll get out of your hair in a jiffy.” He had gotten much, _much_ better about respecting Mabel’s wishes. She seemed grateful for it, and offered him a small smile before pulling out her phone. She was going to play with her apps until he left; at least she’d spoken to him a _little,_ Dipper thought.

 _Better if she hadn’t spoken to him at all,_ Bill offered.

_You know it was me who changed his mind, and you’re still angry at him?_

_He betrayed me,_ Bill said matter-of-factly. _You may have say some fancy words, Pine Tree, but it was ultimately Gideon’s decision to turn against me. He’s going to have to do a_ lot _of dancing to make up for all the years we’ve spent apart… And look how big he is now! I’ll need a_ huge _cage!_

“Before I go,” Gideon said, snapping Dipper out of his thoughts, “I wanted to ask how you’ve been, Dipper.”

“Me?”

Gideon giggled. “Well there ain’t no other Dippers in here, silly!” he said. Then he became more solemn, clasping his hands together as he leaned across the table. “You look really tired, honey,” he said in a low voice. “Have you been havin’ them nightmares?”

Dipper sighed and put his elbow on the table so he could rest his chin in his hand. He’d completely forgotten about having told Gideon of the nightmares. But it had made sense at the time; Gideon had shared with him first that he, too, was experiencing nightmares after Weirdmageddon.

 _Good,_ said Bill.

“Yeah,” said Dipper as he looked out the window. “But it’s really not a big deal, I’ll be -”

He was cut off as Gideon reached across the table and grabbed his free hand.

In a flash, Bill let out a startled yell in his mind, surprising Dipper and causing him to jump back. Mabel looked up at him in shock as Gideon stared at him, his already pale face having gone paler.

“Oh my,” Gideon said in a wavering voice. “Oh, oh dear…”

“What?” Dipper asked as he rubbed his hand.

 _The star!_ Bill yelled. _His symbol - it suddenly flashed in here! Right in front of me!_

Gideon leaned forward again, his voice low and strangely ominous. “Dipper, I can sense a very powerful darkness within you,” he whispered. “Something more sinister than anything I’ve ever felt before…”

Dipper’s heart began to pound a little faster, his blood rushing in his ears along with it.

“Bull,” he said. “I know you don’t have powers, Gid.” But his voice was shaking, and he clenched the hand that had been touched tightly.

“Powerful darkness?” Mabel repeated. “What do you mean?”

“It’s like a black cloud in your mind,” Gideon said, brow furrowed. “Something obscured by its own immeasurable being. But there’s something else, too. Something almost just as powerful.”

Dipper swallowed hard. “...What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Gideon replied with a shake of his head, his pompadour staying perfectly in place. “But it’s not dark. It’s light, and it’s a part of you, hon. I feel like I sensed it before, but… It’s so much _more_ now. Has anything in your life changed recently?”

Mabel looked over at her brother, obviously quicker to believe Gideon than Dipper was. And yet, Dipper believed him too - he just didn’t want to show it. He _couldn’t_ show it.

“No,” he said, his voice weak. “Nothing… Nothing’s changed.”

 _Good boy,_ said Bill. He still sounded alarmed and out of sorts; apparently, he didn’t like it when other people spied on _him._

Gideon pursed his lips and gave Dipper a hard look. Then he relaxed, smiled, and turned to Mabel.

“Well, I think I’ve taken up enough of y’all’s time,” he said. “Let me get some money for ya.”

“Oh, Gideon, you really don’t have to,” Mabel said, but he was already placing a hundred dollar bill on the table.

“Nonsense,” he said. “This should cover my meal, your meal, and a nice tip. Don’t you worry about it. And Dipper?”

“...Yes?”

“I’d really like to see you at the Tent sometime,” said Gideon with a smile. “We can have a nice boys evening. Alright?”

Dipper mustered a smile and lowered his hands into his lap, but his stomach was churning. “Yeah, alright,” he said.

With a bit of a struggle, Gideon pulled himself out of the booth, dusted himself off, winked at Mabel, and then began to walk away. “Bye now!” he said over his shoulder with a wave.

There was a tense silence between the twins amidst the clamor of the diner. Dipper stared down at the table as Mabel stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Aw, is Gideon gone?” Lazy Susan asked as she arrived with their order. “He’s such a nice boy. Wait, did he -”

“Here,” Mabel said with a smile as she slid the hundred dollar bill over. “He left this to cover his meal, and ours, and a tip for you.”

“Oh my goodness! What a little gentleman!” Lazy Susan took the bill, checked it under the light, then placed it on her tray before handing out the twins’ food and drinks. “Here you are, darlings,” she said. “Y’all enjoy!” She quickly gathered up Gideon’s leftover plates and cups, then walked back towards the kitchen, leaving Dipper and Mabel alone again.

Finally, Mabel spoke: “Dipper… why did that freak you out so much? I thought you didn’t believe Gideon had powers.”

“I don’t,” Dipper quickly defended. “I just… It was so sudden. I wasn’t expecting it. And I just, you know…” He waved one of his hands vaguely. “The nightmares, and seeing Bill again, and _that…_ It’s just freaky.” He sighed and folded his arms on the table in front of his burger. “I just wanted to have a day away from that mess.”

Mabel frowned and put a hand on her brother’s back. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Why don’t we drop it for now? Let’s just enjoy our food and talk about good things.”

Dipper looked up at her with a little smile. “Really?”

“Really really,” Mabel said, grinning back at him.

As she grabbed her plate and drink and moved to the other side of the booth, Bill spoke up again, sounding very disturbed.

 _I didn’t think he had powers either, kid,_ he said. _You’re not alone. And between you and me? I don’t recommend going for that ‘boys evening.’ I don’t like this._

Though he was uncomfortable for entirely different reasons, Dipper reluctantly had to agree with Bill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this probably needs to be revised like crazy and i bet there's a ton of typos but I DON'T CARE ANYMORE please take it from me


	7. Fight and Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Dipper to practice his new ability in the real world. If only things were so simple.

Though generally ominous and frightening, the forest of Gravity Falls looked rather welcoming in the midday sunlight. Birds chirped and sang in the trees, brooks and streams poured over pebbles and branches, and the smell of pine was everywhere. Dipper couldn’t help but to bask in the world around him as he trekked down a narrow path leading away from the Shack. It was time to practice again, and Bill had insisted he do so farther away than the backyard to ensure that he would not be seen or heard using his new ability.

“If only _this_ was my day off,” Dipper said as he looked up at the treetops. “It’s beautiful out. And no one asking me about why I look so tired…”

 _By all accounts,_ said Bill, _you_ shouldn’t _be tired. I’ve been giving you dreamless nights for weeks. What gives?_

“I’m stressed out,” Dipper sighed. “My worst enemy is living in my head.”

As he stopped for a moment to retrieve his water bottle from his backpack, Bill tried to turn things around.

 _Worst enemy? That’s hardly fair,_ he said. _We can be the best of friends, Pine Tree! You do as I ask, I spare you and your family - maybe even some friends! - and enlist you into my army of freaks. The Nightmare Realm is restored, and chaos reigns. What’s so bad about that?_

Dipper took a few heavy gulps from his bottle, wiped his mouth on his arm, then replied. “You torment me day in and day out. You laugh when I panic. You’re forcing me away from my friends and family so I can work on ushering in _your_ apocalypse. Where in all of that am I supposed to see the silver lining of _friendship?_ ”

Bill snorted. _Feisty, are we? Fine. So I enjoy your suffering, big deal. What’s more important is that I’m getting to know you, kid - you’re useful. And I don’t hate what’s useful to me._

“Wow. I’m so lucky.”

_For someone who’s supposedly traumatized by me, you sure are talking back a lot, Pine Tree._

Dipper tucked his water bottle away and kept moving through the woods, now much less enthused than he’d been previously. Leave it to Bill to ruin what little happiness he had.

“Your voice isn’t exactly terrifying,” Dipper said as he walked. “I’ve gotten pretty used to it. It’s kinda like forced exposure therapy, having you up there. But don’t worry, you still terrify me.” No use not telling him the truth when he’d be able to see it anyway.

Bill hummed in thought. _Maybe I should let a few nightmares through anyway. Keep you in check._

“See, this - this is why you’d make a horrible friend.” Dipper gripped the straps of his backpack tightly. “Maybe we can be… I don’t know… _allies,_ I guess.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue, like some admission of well and truly giving up. “But I don’t think you know what actual friends are, Bill.”

Bill chuckled. _Maybe not by your standards._

Dipper almost responded, but decided not to. It was worthless, arguing with Bill; if anything it was just a way to pass the time. Bill was _always_ right, even when he was wrong.

Still… there were benefits to having him around, as utterly repulsed by the idea as Dipper was. Bill’s constant presence and blocking of nightmares really had been a big help. Day by day, Dipper felt just a little less afraid, a little less helpless. It didn’t make him _like_ Bill, however; on the contrary, it made him want to punch Bill in the face, whereas he’s previously only wanted to run away from the demon.

It was a good thing Bill ‘liked his spirit’.

Dipper pushed back a few branches from a low tree and stepped out into a comfortably-sized clearing. It looked like a nice place to camp, or at the very least a good spot to just be alone and enjoy nature. And Dipper apparently wasn’t the only one who thought that; he could see large footprints in the grass, clawed and three-toed. As he knelt down to inspect them, Bill interrupted his thoughts.

 _No time for cryptid hunting, kid,_ he said. _It’s training time._

“Do you suppose this is another one of those creatures coming from the barrier?” Dipper asked, ignoring Bill’s words. “Grunkle Ford has been documenting so many new things. Just yesterday he and Stan came back with reports of alien-like beings that -”

 _I know,_ Bill cut in. _I was there. Remember? Again, let me reiterate: no time for cryptid hunting. You have an actual power now, and it’s time to practice._

“Right.” Dipper stood up and let his backpack slide off one shoulder so he could swing it around and set it down by a nearby tree. “So am I practicing to try and unlock new powers? Or hone this one?”

 _Both,_ Bill said. _The stronger your magic is, the better. And who doesn’t like having a good offensive attack that doubles as a defense?_

Dipper looked around the clearing and chewed on his bottom lip. After a moment of consideration, he asked, “Why do you want me to be able to fight?”

 _Hmmm._ Dipper could imagine Bill steepling his fingers in his mind, something he did rather often in the Dreamscape when explaining things. _I don’t, necessarily,_ he said. _But it could come in handy. Pine Tree, I’m gonna be honest with you - because I have no choice, you see - I would love to include you in the ranks of my henchmaniacs if you can get these powers in order. You’ve got a lot of potential, kid, and if you’re the key to opening portals between worlds, you’re practically invaluable. And if I keep you around - if you_ let _me keep you around - it’s better if you can fight. Weirdmageddon isn’t_ all _fun and games for my side. People will try to rise up, and monsters will too. Gnomes, unicorns, manotaurs - all the sorts who wouldn’t respect my rule._

Dipper looked down at the ground and crossed his arms. It was high praise, coming from Bill, and the fact that it was an _option_ to be decided upon said even more. Even still, it was a revolting idea. Be one of Bill’s _henchmaniacs?_ Defend his throne from creatures and people native to Gravity Falls? And there would be so much more when Bill expanded his reign…

 _Hey, you can just talk to them if you want,_ Bill said. _I know you’ve got some connections with some of these guys. Convince them to submit to my rule or dispose of them - your choice, Pine Tree. A reward for your loyalty._

“Who says I’m going to be loyal to you?”

_If you want your friends and family to survive, you have no choice._

Dipper dug his nails into his arms and frowned down at the grass. The words were bad enough, but Bill’s smug tone made it all that much more unbearable to hear. The worst part about it, every time he thought about it, was that _Bill was right._ Unless something unforeseen happened and changed the course of this horrible nightmare, Bill would reign supreme, and Dipper’s only option if he wanted his loved ones safe would be to submit to him.

But he was making the best of the situation, trying to… warm up to Bill as much as he was able. Get to know him, understand him, maybe even…

 _I thought you said I’d make a terrible friend,_ Bill commented as Dipper smacked himself in the forehead for letting that thought escape.

“You would,” Dipper griped. Then, more softly, “But what choice do I have?” He dragged his hand down his face and sighed. Bill was so much more than an enemy now. He had become a confidant by nature, being in the stream of Dipper’s thoughts. He was a mentor to his new abilities. He was a source of information, which he freely dispensed when asked. He wasn’t a friend _yet,_ not by a long shot - if he would ever be a friend at all - and Dipper still hated him with every fiber of his being, but…

They were forced allies.

 _So we’re_ already _allies, then?_ Bill asked with some amount of glee. _How wonderful! So glad to be working with you, partner._

With a shake of his head, Dipper advanced to the center of the clearing. Arguing the semantics of partnership and friendship with someone he both hated and feared wasn’t at the top of his priority list. He had training to do, and for once, he actually felt a little excited about it. He knew what he was trying to do, and, perhaps most importantly, he now had more solid proof of his abilities than just a glowing forehead.

“How do you think I should start this?” he asked.

Bill hummed. _It’s a blast of force,_ he said, _so maybe you should try using it on a solid object. A stick, maybe._

“A blast of force, huh?” Dipper smiled. “An _unrelenting_ force?”

Bill seemed unimpressed. _Uh. I guess so._ He paused, then asked, _What on earth is this you’re thinking about? A video game?_

“One of the best,” Dipper asserted. “You think if I -”

_No. Yelling nonsense isn’t going to make this work any more than just keeping your mouth shut._

Dipper rolled his eyes. Bill was all about fun until it inconvenienced him, and then he shut down anything that wasn’t in line. Dipper felt like an idiot for trying to joke around with him at all. Of _course_ Bill didn’t really care. If he did, maybe they really could work their way up to friendship; maybe Bill would actually be _likable._

And the fact that Bill had nothing to say to that told Dipper that he wasn’t actually interested in being friends at all.

“Fine,” Dipper said as he cracked his knuckles. “I guess that’s what I get for acting any sort of relaxed with you.”

It was on impulse that he said it, and he meant for it to sting; yet as soon as it was out of his mouth, he realized how utterly _idiotic_ that was.

Bill started laughing.

“Oh, shut up,” Dipper growled as he focused on a nearby stick laying on the ground. He could feel the ridicule coming even as he tried to squash down his own emotions. When Bill spoke, he could feel his ears grow hot.

 _You wanted to hurt my_ feelings! _Oh, that’s rich!_

“Just let me do this, would you?” Dipper snapped, a little louder than necessary. “Isn’t this what you want?”

 _Sure thing,_ partner! _Ahaha!_

Dipper grit his teeth and closed his eyes. Why did Bill have to be so _insufferable?_ Why did he ricochet from one emotion to the next? How could he confess that he wanted Dipper to be in his personal army, then openly mock him? But the answer was simple: he was _Bill._ An annoying, spiteful, _abusive_ little demon who would never be worth the effort it required just to keep pace with him. And he _certainly_ wasn’t worth the years of nightmares and anxiety he had caused.

Bill went silent.

With a long exhale, Dipper opened his eyes again and focused on the stick. That was the goal: move the stick. He’d been warned that his abilities might be less outside of the Dreamscape, but he was sure he could do it. He began to channel the energy inside of his body, letting it flow upwards towards his head and into his birthmark. He could almost _feel_ the glow as he tried to push the energy outwards, imagining the stick flying across the clearing -

 _I don’t want to be stuck with_ you _any more than you want to be stuck with_ me, _Pine Tree._

“Oh my god,” Dipper said as the energy dissipated from his body. The stick lay perfectly still. “I’m trying to focus!”

_And I’m trying to be clear! Do you think this is some kind of dream vacation for me?_

“I don’t _care_ what it is for you!” Dipper yelled. “I’m doing everything exactly how you want it! For fuck’s sake, I’m out in the middle of the forest so _no one will hear me,_ just because _you_ said to do it! Grunkle Ford would be worried sick if he knew I was alone out here!” He threw his arms in the air and paced back towards his backpack.

 _And now you’re_ mad _at me? Ha! Keep standing up to me, kid! I can re-traumatize you anytime I want! How about a few nightmares tonight?_

“I don’t _care!_ ” Dipper snarled, but he _did_ care, and he was _afraid,_ and Bill laughed as the feelings passed through his mind. He knelt down to grab his backpack with shaking hands.

 _Don’t even try it, Pines,_ Bill sneered. _I’ll just possess you and walk you back to this clearing. You’re here until I say otherwise. Got it?_

“Fuck you,” Dipper said as he stood up, backpack slung over one shoulder.

 _Are you forgetting what’s at stake here? Or are you just forgetting your role in all this? You’re a_ puppet. _And_ I’m _pulling the strings. You don’t get to walk away from this._

“You think this is any way to work with someone?!” Dipper yelled into the open air as he whirled around to face the clearing again. “Mocking me and belittling me, when _I’m_ the one _you_ need? Why can’t you treat me with _respect_ for once? Maybe then we could actually be -”

 _Be what? Friends? We both know that’s not something that can really happen._ Bill let out a short, mean laugh. _I don’t have to treat you like_ anything. _The fact that I’ve been going easy on you was just a nicety. Like it or not, you have to do what I say!_

Dipper bared his teeth in an angry grimace, then slumped against the tree he was near. “What if I just do _nothing?”_ he snapped. “Can’t use my powers for me, Bill!” He crossed his arms over his chest, and Bill snorted in his mind.

 _So you’ll risk the nightmares? The possession? All because I’m not_ nice _enough?_

A branch snapped somewhere off in the forest.

“I don’t care anymore,” Dipper said in a wavering voice. He _did_ care, but he didn’t want to stand down _now._ “Do whatever you want.”

There was a low grumbling sound and another branch snapping, closer now.

 _I’m going to make your life hell,_ Bill snarled. _You want to play this game? We’ll play this game. Here’s a tip, kid: I’m going to win._

“Only because you don’t play _fair!_ If you would just -”

Dipper practically jumped out of his skin as a large, three-toed foot slammed into the ground from between two trees, claws digging into the dirt.

As Dipper stared ahead in shock, the rest of the creature began to emerge from the shadows. It was massive, covered in some kind of hair - maybe feathers? - and very reptilian. Almost dinosaur-like, even, but for its four arms and six eyes, all of which were staring right at Dipper.

There was a tense silence in the clearing as the beast eyed him hungrily.

 _Pine Tree,_ Bill said after a moment, the anger and smugness gone from his voice. _What is that?_

“I have no idea,” Dipper mumbled back. He could feel a cold sweat forming on his skin. He hadn’t thought to bring any gear, any weapons…

 _I think it might be time for you to practice now,_ said Bill.

The creature took a step closer, sniffed the air, then roared.

Dipper slammed back against the tree as he tried to back away, then scrambled around it and dashed back the way he’d come. The ground vibrated beneath him as the monster gave chase, roaring and screeching and growling up a storm behind him.

“ _Bill!_ ” Dipper yelled. “I don’t know what to do!”

 _Figure it out!_ Bill snapped. _I need you_ alive _, dammit!_

The monster was gaining fast. For all the hiking and expeditions done back home, Dipper couldn’t possibly hope to outrun it, and with _six eyes_ he didn’t expect it to lose sight of him easily.

 _Use the blast!_ Bill yelled.

Panicked and afraid for his own life, Dipper decided to heed the advice. He skidded to a stop and whipped around, only for the monster to be right in front of him. He cried out in fear as it snapped its jaws in his face, then put his hands on its snout as it tried to force itself closer. He could feel energy surging in his body as he willed himself away from the beast. Just as it began to open its jaws again, Dipper released the energy, and a blast of pure force sent him flying through the air away from the creature as it was sent tumbling backwards.

Less adept in the real world, Dipper stumbled and fell onto his back before scrambling to his feet again. His hope had been that his new ability would stun the beast; alas, as he tried to catch his breath, it rolled back onto its feet and shook its head.

“What now?!” Dipper pleaded.

 _I don’t know!_ Bill sounded almost as panicked as Dipper was. _Just - get away from it! Somewhere it can’t see!_

Dipper looked around - trees everywhere. He could try to duck and weave through them, but the monster would easily follow. Where else was there to go?

As the creature came to its senses and growled, Dipper had a sudden idea.

 _Oh god,_ Bill said, voice filled with dread. _Kid - Pine Tree - you’re gonna get yourself maimed._

“Yeah,” Dipper panted, “or this _thing_ is gonna maim me.”

The monster took a few steps forward, then began to charge, opening its jaws in another roar.

Dipper crouched down, squeezed his eyes shut, and focused all of his energy into creating another blast as he placed a hand on the dirt.

Before the monster could close its jaws on Dipper, it was shoved back by another wave of energy. It stumbled, but did not fall; in a rage, it turned back to where Dipper had been… and found him to be gone.

It looked around frantically, then began to turn in wide circles, screeching and lashing its tail. All six of its eyes looked in every direction they could, trying to ferret him out of hiding as it began to walk through the trees and sniff the air.

High above, clinging to a sturdy tree branch, Dipper held his breath as the beast searched for him.

Even Bill stayed silent, the both of them watching through Dipper’s eyes as the monster circled through the trees several times. It kept letting out screeches and roars as it moved, as if that would somehow bring its prey back. After what felt like far too long, it finally began to walk in a straight line away from where they were, its noises becoming more and more distant.

Dipper grunted as he began to lift himself up onto the branch, kicking his legs as he struggled against the inherent weakness of his noodle arms. The adrenaline rush was already exhausting him, and it took several failed attempts to lift himself up before he was able to seat himself on the branch.

As he let out a deep breath, Bill started laughing.

“What now?” Dipper asked, tired and annoyed and feeling so very _done_ with Bill.

 _You did it!_ Bill cheered, much to Dipper’s surprise. _You actually did it! Not only did you use the blast_ twice, _but you used it so_ effectively! _Bravo, Pine Tree!_

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck, then reached up to place his hand on top of his trapper hat. He was amazed it was still there. “Uh… thanks,” he said.

 _This is only the beginning,_ Bill went on. _Think of how much you’ll be able to do now!_

Dipper leaned back against the trunk of the tree and looked out over the forest and into the town he could just barely see from his perch. “Like what?” he asked. “What kind of stuff am I supposed to be able to do?”

He could easily imagine Bill pacing in his mind as he spoke. _Well, we already know you’re going to be able to get me out of your mind. That requires some kind of tangible portal from the Mindscape to your world. So - that. You’ll be able to do that. Otherwise…_ Bill paused for a moment. Dipper cocked his head, waiting.

 _I have no idea,_ said Bill with a frustrated sigh. _You could do practically_ anything. _Magic is… unpredictable. The important thing is that you’ve unlocked_ something, _and you seem to be able to do it consistently - though we may have to test and see if you can do it when you’re_ not _under pressure. Beyond that…_

Dipper snorted. “Yeah, that’d be something. Getting to blast stuff around _without_ some horrible beast threatening me.”

_Sure. Compare me to the lizard._

“Objectively, you’re worse.”

Bill clicked his tongue. _Right. Well, in any case, the next step will be focusing your energy on specific ideas, like we had originally tried. Honestly, we’re lucky you did this in the Dreamscape - that’s probably what unlocked your abilities, so to speak. Activating it in your own mind sped the process along. I really should have thought of that sooner…_

Dipper adjusted his seat on the branch and pulled his backpack off so he could hang it off of the end. “You’ve never had to train someone before, right?” he asked as he secured one of the straps on a small offshoot. “And you unlocked your own powers differently, and like, hundreds of thousands of years ago.”

_Trillions. But you’re right. I’m not exactly in my comfort zone here._

Realizing he had offered Bill an excuse for his own ineptitude, rather than allowing him to beat himself up for it, Dipper frowned and glared down at the trees below. He was too quick to be _kind_ , to act as though the voice he was replying to was _human_.

Then again, Dipper had known many non-humans who were reasonable. Bill was just… Bill.

... _I guess you’re not really in your comfort zone either,_ Bill admitted, sounding for all the world like the words were being forcibly dragged from him. _Look, Pine Tree… I, uh, got a little heated. Forget about the nightmares thing._

And again, Bill was surprising him, even if he sounded insincere as all hell.

“Are you apologizing?” Dipper asked as he tilted his head back against the trunk of the tree.

Bill scoffed. _Don’t start thinking the wrong things, kid. I meant most of what I said. I’m the one in control here, and you better keep that in mind. And I won’t hesitate to make you regret defying me if you try that crap again._ He paused for a moment, then went on, sounding just a bit uncertain. _However… I also meant what I said about you being one of my henchmaniacs. And for that to happen, it’d be best if we were on… agreeable terms. It also helps out what we’re doing here, getting me out of your head._

Dipper couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips. It wasn’t really a happy thing; it was more a smile at his pathetic situation and the irony of Bill Cipher trying to work with him to keep him ‘agreeable’.

“Well, I got frustrated first,” he said with a shake of his head. “I guess we both lost our cool.”

_Agreed. Let’s try to stay calm in the future, shall we?_

“Sure Bill. Whatever you say.” Dipper looked up over the treetops and tried to find the Mystery Shack on the horizon. “Man, this is gonna be a long climb down…”

_You should learn to float. Saves me a lot of time._

Bill cackled as Dipper rolled his eyes.

* * *

 

The shadows were growing long as Dipper arrived back at the Mystery Shack. His steps were slow as he meandered down the path; he was exhausted and ready for a nap, or maybe to just pass out for several days. Unfortunately, he couldn’t go to sleep just yet - he knew he had to tell Ford about what he’d seen. The creature had been strange, not a legend or a fossil; something surely caused by the weakened barrier.

 _Just don’t tell him anything more than that,_ Bill stressed. _Make up something about how you got away. No one needs to know what you’re capable of. Not yet, anyway._

 _Why not?_ Dipper asked, silent now as he approached the Shack. _My abilities have nothing to do with you. Do they?_

In all honestly, he knew little about magic - or at least, his specific brand of magic - and had been too dazed and afraid to really question it. Hell, he’d barely believed it until he blasted Bill away in the Dreamscape.

Bill seemed to consider all of that before replying. _No, your abilities have nothing to do with me,_ he said. _You’ve always had some magical ability; it was just locked away in your mind, like it is for so many magic users these days._

Dipper could hear chatter inside the Shack, tourists possibly, or maybe his family. He put a hand on the door, then hesitated. He’d been gone a few hours, with all the effort it took to get out of the tree and back… Everyone would wonder where he’d gone. They’d want to speak with him.

For once, however, he was more interested in what Bill had to say.

 _So it’s just random chance?_ he asked as he moved away from the door and sat down on a chair nearby. _Or is it genetic? Is there any chance Mabel has powers?_

 _Not random, and not genetic,_ said Bill. _If your sister has them, it’s because she was chosen._

 _Chosen?_ Dipper couldn’t help the alarm in his thoughts. Who _chose_ him?

 _Ax, of course,_ said Bill. _I mentioned him before. He’s kind of important in the universe - knows all, sees all, that sort of thing. Magic originated with him and it’ll end with him, just like everything else._

Dipper sat back in the chair. _You’re telling me… that the same entity gave you and me our powers?_

_That I am, Pine Tree._

Dipper reached up to push his hat back and run his fingers through his hair. The idea that he and Bill could be connected in such a way was both baffling and awe-inspiring. The very thought of a being that relegated magic throughout the entire known universe was… staggering, to say the least. He could barely comprehend it.

 _It’s not that difficult,_ Bill said, sounding quite casual about it. _Ax isn’t like your human perception of ‘God’. He doesn’t rule everything with an iron fist… or whatever it is you’d call his feet. He mostly stays out of the way. But magic, that was one of his creations. Some species are born magical. Some worlds are magical. And some, like you and me, are just gifted with it by Ax._

 _Are you telling me that this… Ax… is the_ real _God?_ Dipper asked in awe.

 _Guess so,_ said Bill. _Most beings across the universe don’t know diddly-squat about him. They make up their own Gods, like you humans, to explain the world around them. Ax didn’t create everything, though, just… some things. Like magic. Everything else just sort of happened. The universe built itself around him, and he let it be outside of inserting a bit of magic here and there. If he does anything else, I don’t know about it._

Dipper looked up at the sky above, pink and orange and purple as the sun began to set. He tried to wrap his mind around what Bill was telling him; he knew it had to be true, or at least as far as Bill understood. He had so many questions…

 _Ask ‘em later,_ Bill said. _I have a feeling this is going to be a long talk, and we have more important things to be doing._

 _You mean_ I _have more important things to be doing,_ Dipper retorted. _Until I go to bed, your day is over._

Bill grumbled in his mind. _You got me there, Pine Tree,_ he said. _But when you_ do _go to sleep, don’t expect me to answer questions about Ax all night. We have to explore the limits of your capabilities, see what else we can unlock… Then maybe I can give you a religious lecture in person._

Dipper shuddered at the thought.

 _If it can even be called religion,_ Bill went on. _It’s more just… what_ is. _There’s a little more food for thought, kid. Enjoy it._

 _Sure,_ Dipper thought, but his mind was quickly returning back to reality of his situation at the mention of seeing Bill _in person._ He saw Bill regularly in the Dreamscape, but that was different. That was… a dream. To have Bill in the real world again…

 _Hey, it’s coming up, so get used to it,_ Bill snapped. _You still haven’t even decided if you’re going to be on my side or not. Tick tock, kid. The lives of your friends and family depend on it._

Dipper groaned and leaned over to put his head in his hands. It really was coming, wasn’t it? The apocalypse was coming, and he would be the one to herald it into reality. He had no choice. Even without the deal looming over his head - a deal made for the sake of Stan’s life - he still had no choice. Bill would force him, one way or another, even if it meant breaking him down from within. Or possessing him and doing horrible things, not only to his own body, but possibly to his family…

 _Only if you don’t behave,_ Bill helpfully clarified. _Just do as I say, Pine Tree. Submit to me. Everyone lives, and you get a position of power._

Dipper looked up and into the distance, horrified, as Bill continued in a low, almost sultry tone.

_And when we’re done here, kid, we move on up. Once the Nightmare Realm is secure in this reality, once I rule, we go after Ax. You won’t have to ask any questions ever again, because you’ll know me well enough. You made sure of that, didn’t you, Pine Tree?_

Before Dipper could formulate any thoughts outside of abject terror, the door opened, and Ford stepped outside. He was surprised to see Dipper - he wanted to know where he’d been, if he was alright, if he needed to talk.

Even as he forced himself to relax and tell Ford what he could, Dipper’s mind was in turmoil, launching from one thing to the next, always about Bill and the impending doom he was involved in. In saving Stan’s life he had promised himself to a madman, one not simply content with world domination and apparently hellbent on deicide.

As Ford led him inside of the shack, Dipper took one last look back at the sky and the setting sun. How many more sunsets would he see before the end of the world?


	8. Separation Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not about how powerful you are; it's about how capable you are at using your powers. Too bad that realization comes with the end of the world as we know it.

For a time, things were easier with Bill.

The mocking and belittling came less frequently as the positive reinforcement increased, usually inspired by Dipper’s efforts in unlocking his own abilities. Bill gave him days off, urged him to go see his friends and have a nice time - and convince his family that he was doing alright. He got time to spend with Ford in the woods, cataloging new creatures; he watched TV with Stan; he went out for drives with Mabel; he finally got to visit Pacifica, who bought him a new pair of silk pajamas; he texted with Wendy, who invited him camping with her family; he even went out alone, just enjoying the town or the forest at his leisure. Bill would comment the whole way through anything he did, but Dipper found himself a little more at ease with his freedom.

Yet with that ease came a deep sense of dread he couldn’t shake. Thinking of plans to prevent Weirdmageddon 2.0 was a waste because Bill could hear his every thought, and stalling in unlocking his abilities failed for the same reason. On one occasion he had very deliberately tried to get caught using his powers by Ford, in the hopes that he would be ‘studied’ and Bill would be uncovered - only to have Bill possess him, walk him into the woods, and then berate him for an hour (all while still in control of his body). His only option was to continue trying to make the best of the situation… which was difficult, to say the least.

Bill began to tutor Dipper in the Dreamscape as well as in the real world, and his hopes of unlocking Dipper’s powers more quickly that way proved to be correct. Two new abilities came to light under Bill’s guidance - the ability to move objects a short distance by focusing on them and the direction they should move, and the ability to levitate for a few seconds. Bill assured Dipper that both would become more powerful over time, and that many more abilities would come his way as he practiced; magic users were very powerful and very adept, he said. Or at least they were when they knew they had powers. Gideon, he surmised, was probably largely unaware of his natural abilities and just let things come to him after his brief interactions with magical objects.

Along with guesses about Gideon’s apparent ability came a wealth of information from Bill, as he seemed eager and willing to share his knowledge on magic with Dipper whenever prompted. He learned of spells and incantations, and who could create them; he came to learn that there were different classes of magic users, and he fell into the same class as Bill, despite likely having very different abilities; he learned that Bill’s identity as a demon was separate from his magical ability; he even learned more about the Nightmare Realm and its creatures, and the official team of ‘henchmaniacs’.

With each passing day and subsequent visit to the Dreamscape, Bill became more and more excited about what was to come. His honesty revealed many things - he was surprised that ‘Ax’ had enabled this, more than anything. He was genuinely grateful for his second chance at life… and his second chance at his master plan to save the Nightmare Realm. Perhaps most jarring of all, he expressed true interest in working with Dipper to break the barrier and unleash Weirdmageddon. Dipper wondered to himself if Bill had expected more resistance from him. Had he thought Dipper would stand up to him and try to foil his plans more than he had attempted already? Was he happy that his threats and very presence had made Dipper compliant almost immediately?

Dipper felt ashamed. That wasn’t enough to change anything, though, and never would be. Bill was in control. Even if he rebelled, Bill would rein him in, no matter how vicious he had to get. And even as Bill welcomed their alliance, Dipper resented him for it. He had become equal parts rage and fear, and he hoped that somehow, that could even begin to make up for what he was _allowing_ to happen.

Accepting the inevitable was impossible. Trying to simply _put up with it_ , however, was just barely manageable. So Dipper took pleasure in the small things he was allowed, loved his friends and family as deeply as he could, and practiced his abilities to hone them for a future wherein he would have to fight to protect a throne he didn’t believe in. He asked Bill questions - not just about the future or his powers, but about _Bill himself_ \- seeking information that might make any part of this nightmare easier.

In the end, Dipper never could have predicted how things would go; even for all his ‘making the best of a bad situation’, he only saw the bleakest possible future ahead.

Nothing could have prepared him for what was coming.

* * *

 

The pivotal night began as most others did, with Bill rambling on while Dipper focused on honing the abilities he had already begun to learn. Levitation was his focus that night; while Bill regaled him with tales of the other henchmaniacs, Dipper focused all of his energy on lifting himself up off of the grayscale ground.

“...And so Kryptos, see, he tries to bluff, pretend he’s got a bad hand,” Bill was saying as he lounged in the air, one hand behind his head as he gestured with the other. “But the poor bastard has a horrible tell. His voice gets higher! Isn’t that ridiculous! So of course I folded as soon as he opened his stupid mouth. My hand was _good,_ but Kryptos was practically speaking in dog-whistle, so I knew it wasn’t good _enough._ The look on his face…”

Dipper opened his eyes for a moment to glare at Bill, but the demon didn’t notice, too entranced by his own one-sided conversation. It wasn’t as much of a problem as it had been in the past, though; Dipper was getting much better at keeping his focus even through Bill’s incessant rambling.

“Definitely one of the weaker henchmaniacs,” Bill went on. “Maybe you’ll replace him, Pine Tree. You certainly have better powers. Though I wonder if you’re a good Poker player…?” Bill glanced over just as Dipper managed to lift up off of the ground by about an inch.

“Hey, nice job!” he exclaimed as Dipper exhaled hard and touched down again. “You’ve almost got the hang of it, huh kid? Soon you’ll be floatin’ like a pro!” He gestured to himself with his thumb, a sharp-toothed grin parting his lips. For someone who’d spent the vast majority of their immeasurable lifespan without a mouth, Bill sure liked to show off his teeth. For that matter, he was a natural at facial expressions - maybe because of how many people he’d possessed?

Dipper ran a hand through his hair ( _why did he never have his trapper hat in the Dreamscape?_ ) and leaned against a nearby tree. When he looked up into the branches, he could see memories of a fishing trip he’d gone on with his Grunkles, Mabel, and Soos two years prior.

“What was it like for you when you first figured out you had powers, Bill?” Dipper asked as he reached up and touched one of the lower branches of the tree. “Did _you_ have to practice so much?”

Bill opened his mouth, then seemed to deflate as the arrangements of their deal sank in. With a sigh he lowered his legs to the ground and pulled his cane out into existence behind his back. “Of course I did,” he replied as he tapped the end of his cane on the ground. “That was… countless eons ago, now. I hid it from everyone I could until I was ready to confront the higher-ups.” He scoffed and leaned on his cane. “Lot of good that did.”

Dipper pulled his hand back and looked at Bill, who was glaring off to the side with his lips pulled into a tight scowl. Time spent with him had made it easier to see him when he was feeling bitter or angry; Dipper no longer felt immediately afraid. Still, he was wary as he crossed his arms over his chest and pressed on.

“They laughed at you and kicked you out, right?”

“Yes.” Bill lifted his cane up and onto his shoulder, then bounced it up and down as he gazed into the trees. “The hierarchy of the Flatlands was… strict. It never would have mattered how grand my display was, or how many things I set on fire. They would have cast me out regardless.” He tightened his grip on his cane, muttered something Dipper couldn’t hear, then grinned and made eye-contact. “But they’re all dead now! Shows them, right?”

“...Right,” Dipper said, tightening the cross of his arms as a wave of discomfort washed over him. He averted his gaze from Bill’s unnerving eyes and tried to change the subject. “Uh, back to the powers thing…”

Bill lingered for a moment, then lifted his legs up again so he could float in a casual sitting position. “Practice will make you stronger,” he said as he twirled his cane at his side. “If that’s what you were getting at, then yeah. I practiced until I became what I am today.” Dipper looked up as Bill chuckled and bared his teeth. “Of course, some of that practice was just _using_ my abilities where needed.”

Reluctant to think on what exactly Bill was implying, Dipper pushed away from the tree and cracked his knuckles. “Right. Okay. Practice it is, then,” he said.

Bill regarded him with a strange expression for a moment - some odd, almost predatory _pride_ \- then turned his attention away into the woods.

Left to his own thoughts (though always aware of the fact that Bill could still hear them, even when they were both in the Dreamscape), Dipper’s mind began to wander as he thought of what to attempt next.

His powers had not been spontaneous when they were uncovered. He had worked for them, had tried his hardest to do specific things rather than hoping for the best and focusing his power on nothing. The idea had occurred to him after the monster incident, when he had blasted himself into the tree; rather than relying on chance or unseen forces, Dipper had very purposefully thought of blasting himself up and away from the ground. And it had worked.

What confused him, then, was how powerful the blast was compared to his object-moving or levitation. He had focused very hard on those ideas when he had unlocked them; why were they not as explosive or useful? Even when he practiced in the Dreamscape, he only improved by fractions. Where was the supposedly limitless power he had unlocked within himself?

Bill glanced over, eyes half-lidded as he absently toyed with his cane. Dipper met his gaze for only a brief moment before turning away. He knew what the look meant - in essence, whatever he was thinking sounded idiotic.

So it wasn’t limitless, and he’d hardly ‘unlocked’ it. He could concede that from what Bill had told him. Still, why did his first ability dwarf the others by so much? What was the key difference between them? Bill had never been able to answer that, and Dipper could only continue to wonder.

“I don’t see you practicing, kid,” Bill said as Dipper meandered down the path, looking into the boughs of the memory-trees surrounding him. “Don’t go getting yourself distracted.”

“I’m just thinking,” Dipper said back as he reached out to touch the bark of one of the trees. Surely within one of them was the memory of the first time he’d been able to access any ability - the time Bill had lost his temper and pinned him to a tree while yelling at him. It still haunted him; what memories would it be grouped with? What tree would it be in?

Bill scoffed and summoned Journal 3 into existence before himself so he could thumb through it (or Dipper’s memories of it). “Just keep your mind on track, Pine Tree,” he said as he settled into a comfortable position in the air, his cane floating nearby.

In all honestly, Dipper didn’t really _want_ to find the memory. He was just interested about where it might be, considering its traumatic nature. Would it be grouped with other traumas, or with the events of that day? And if he climbed into the tree and stepped through it, what would his memory-self say to him about it? Would he say anything at all, or be too terrified and focused on what was happening?

Dipper stopped walking and looked down the path, to where the trees and ground faded into a white fog of nothingness.

He was terrified, and he was _focused._ Every fiber of his being had been focused on one thing in that moment - getting away from Bill. His energy had collected, sharpened, and burst out of him in the shape of a way to escape Bill’s grasp.

And the second time, with the monster, his every thought was concentrated on using the blast to shoot himself up into the tree above. He had been terrified in that moment too, but it wasn’t the fear that caused it, no - it was the _will._ The sheer amount of energy poured into the _idea_ of doing what he _needed_ to do.

Dipper turned around to tell Bill what was on his mind, but Bill had already banished the book and sat up, his eyes wide as he stared Dipper down with expectant excitement.

“I think I can do it,” Dipper said, his stomach churning in a mix of elation and dread as the weight of what he had just realized settled in around his gut. “I think - If i just focus the right way -”

Bill’s lips split into a wide grin, his sharp teeth gleaming in the light of Dipper’s memories.

“This is it, kid,” he said with a low chuckle, and in that moment the dread outweighed any excitement Dipper could have felt over finally getting Bill out of his head.

Swallowing heavily, Dipper wrung his hands together and looked anywhere but at his forced ally. “I mean… Maybe I should practice more first, though,” he said. “Maybe I -”

Bill floated over to him in a flash, then set his feet down on the ground as he grabbed Dipper by the shoulders.

“This is _it_ ,” he said, his grin too wide, pupils too narrow, grip too tight. “I’m finally gettin’ out of here! And you - you’re coming into your own, Pine Tree. If all you have to do is use willpower and concentration…”

Something about his voice - the way he was speaking, the quiet implications of what he was trying to say - unnerved Dipper down to the core.

“Just _imagine_ all the things you’ll be able to do for me.”

* * *

 

Like all the others, the night was dreamless. The span of time between seeing Bill and being awake seemed like nothing at all; Dipper didn’t even feel like he’d slept. His entire body felt tense and tired, and for several minutes after waking he did nothing but lie still and stare up at the ceiling as his head buzzed with anxiety and a thousand different worries.

The way the sun lit up the room felt wrong. Everything looked so soft and serene, yet it _felt_ like the end of the world.

And wasn’t that what this _was?_

 _C’mon, kid,_ said Bill as Dipper rolled onto his side and stared at his sister’s empty bed. _Don’t be all doom-and-gloom. This is the start of something amazing!_

“Not now, Bill,” Dipper groaned as he put his hands over his face. “It’s too early.”

Bill went quiet as Dipper squeezed his eyes shut behind his fingers. The things he was feeling all conflicted with one another and boiled in his gut. There was relief, but sadness; anger, but joy. His mind would be _free._ The rest of him, however, would be in legion to Bill Cipher. There would be no time to rally his friends and family together to fight the menace because they would be Bill’s first targets if he didn’t submit.

What would life as a henchmaniac be like? Would it be hard? Would it be worth it, to save those he loved? What if he lost himself to the power, became a different person?

Dipper pulled his hands from his face and curled them up at his chest. He was _scared,_ more than anything.

 _Buck up, Pine Tree,_ Bill piped up. _It’s not gonna be so bad! You’ll love being in my crew of freaks! It’s a pretty high honor, kid. And your precious loved ones will be safe and sound. Maybe they can even stay in the Fearamid with you!_

Dipper sat up a little and looked upwards, as if trying to look at his own brain. “With me?”

 _Well sure!_ said Bill. _Where else would you be staying? This miserable Shack is going to be at ground zero. You want to be up high, away from all the riff-raff. I’ll even give you your own room! Decked out in - what is it you like? Monsters? How about a bunch of mounted monster heads? They’ll still be alive and roaring at you constantly! Ahahaha!_

The idea that he wouldn’t still be in the shack hadn’t even occurred to him. For that matter, Dipper hadn’t even considered the fact that he probably wouldn’t be going home to Piedmont for a long, long time. Maybe not ever. Or if he did, it would be as ruined as the rest of the world, and his home would be long gone. Would his parents be in the Fearamid? How would he explain this to them?

How would he explain this to _anyone?_

 _Time’s a’ wastin’, kid!_ Bill interjected cheerfully. _We have a deal to fulfill - and a new one to make! Of course, you still need to help me open the rift, but - What I mean is, we gotta get me back into the real world, back at full power. And we need to seal the deal on this whole protecting your loved ones thing._

“I’m surprised you actually want to make a deal,” Dipper muttered as he sat up all the way and rubbed the back of his neck. “Wouldn’t you rather stab me in the back?”

 _Sure, but a deal ensures that you stay with me and use your powers for_ my _side. So it’s a win for both of us!_

“...Right.” Dipper slung his legs over the side of the bed, then rested his elbows on his knees and let his hands hang between his thighs. He could hear his family downstairs, too distant to catch individual words but close enough to hear their voices - they were happy. Probably having a nice conversation. Maybe Ford had made some breakthrough in strengthening the barrier between worlds. Or maybe Mabel had made something new and interesting that she was sharing. Maybe Stan had remembered something else. Maybe they were just having a nice time.

And he was going to ruin that.

As he began to stand up, Bill spoke again, now grave and serious: _No lingering, Pine Tree. No hugs goodbye, no fond farewells. You’re just going for a walk. If they suspect anything is going on…_

“They won’t,” Dipper assured as he picked up yesterday’s jeans and began to pull them on. “But do I really have to go right away? Can’t I stick around?” He buttoned his pants and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, preparing to take it off. “What’s the rush?”

 _The rush is that I don’t trust you to not give something away,_ said Bill. _You’re too sentimental to just let your family enjoy themselves without trying to get in some last-ditch ‘this is the last time we’ll ever have a moment like this’ bullshit. You’ll have plenty of bonding time once we’ve opened the barrier._

Dipper tossed his shirt onto the bed, then stared at it in contempt as though it were actually a physical manifestation of Bill sitting before him. There was nothing he could really say, no witty comebacks or biting remarks - Bill always had him outplayed in those. Still, part of him enjoyed the feeling of being _angry_ at Bill. It was such a nice change of pace from being afraid all of the time. If there was any upside to _any_ of this, that was it.

Bill had no comments as Dipper finished getting dressed for the day. He had decided to put on a comfortable red shirt, a reminder of how he used to dress as a child - something to help ease his mind as he walked into the apocalypse. He even considered grabbing a new pine tree hat from the gift shop, but decided to stick with his trapper hat instead. As comforting as the old hat had been, it was also marked with his symbol - something he didn’t want to think of as he went against his place in fate. That was it, wasn’t it? All the bearers of the Cipher Zodiac were chosen by fate to defeat Bill.

Dipper would not be a bearer of his symbol on this day.

Moving to the door and down the stairs felt like struggling through deep water. Of course, he had already drowned, been dragged down by the horrible siren call of fear; now, though, he would drag the others down with him, down to meet the sharp-toothed monster that would sing sweet lies of safety and protection to them.

 _Poetic,_ Bill deadpanned as Dipper reached the bottom of the stairs. _Do you really think I won’t keep them safe, Pine Tree?_

 _I have trouble trusting you,_ Dipper replied. _I guess I’ll believe it when I see it._

Bill chuckled, then went quiet again.

Dipper put his hand on the handle of the door that lead to the front porch and gripped it tight, but couldn’t find it in himself to actually open it. He could hear Mabel and their Grunkles in the kitchen, all laughing as they talked back and forth about various goings-on that Dipper hadn’t been privy to, thanks to all of his “alone time”. They sounded undeniably happy. As much as he ached to join them, to hug them and ask for comfort, Dipper didn’t want to ruin their day by stepping into the kitchen looking as upset as he did.

He opened the door as quietly as he could, then slipped outside without being noticed.

The day was pleasant and warm, the sun shining just so through the trees as the birds sang their songs. Dipper headed in the direction of the first path he had taken with Ford weeks before, hoping in the back of his mind that his visual memory was off and he wouldn’t find what he was looking for. Bill’s memory was better, though, and Dipper knew if he strayed that he would be corrected - forcibly, if necessary.

Yet as he moved into the trees, the Shack disappearing behind him, Dipper felt very much like he was going the right way - the ominous feeling emanating from the trees was almost too strong to handle. Had he not noticed it before, or had it not been there? He and Ford _had_ been talking a lot…

Familiar signs began to show as he walked further down the path. The foliage became thicker, the ground less trodden-upon, the air still and silent. Bill hummed a strange tune in his mind, and Dipper felt a wave of deja vu crash down over him.

“When Ford’s machine was going haywire,” said Dipper, “was that because of me or because of your statue?” He put his hand on the trunk of a nearby tree and peered into the clearing he had arrived at.

 _Probably you, but only because I’m in your head,_ replied Bill. _The statue is essentially nothing without me in it. It may as well be a lawn ornament._ He paused for a moment, then went on in a smug voice, _But that doesn’t stop it from scaring the pants off ya, now does it?_

Dipper chose to enter the clearing rather than respond.

It was the same as before - silent and small, mostly shaded save for the convenient shaft of light that beamed through the branches and fell down upon the half-buried statue. Though fear still gripped Dipper as he looked upon it, it was easier this time to take in all of its appearance; the earth had been retaking it over the years. Moss covered almost every available surface, and the stone itself was covered in cracks.

As he stared at it, a small red bird flew down from the tops of the trees and landed on Bill’s outstretched hand.

“Looks like you have a friend,” Dipper said, just barely keeping the waver out of his voice. “I wonder why he hasn’t made any sound…?

 _Animals seem to know better than to come here,_ Bill replied. _Maybe this one is just stupid. Like that Faun. Remember him? More to the point, though... Time for this game to get started, Pine Tree._

The bird looked at Dipper, chirped once, then fluttered off of the statue and away into the trees.

Dipper swallowed and clenched his fists at his sides. He wanted this, but he didn’t. He wanted Bill gone, but to give up everything they had fought for during Weirdmageddon…

 _Hey, you’ll still have some sunshine to enjoy!_ Bill said. _Ol’ Fordsy never found the weakest part of the barrier! I don’t_ need _it to open a rift, but it’d be nice to open the door rather than make a hole in the wall, know what I’m sayin’?_

“Not really,” Dipper muttered. As far as he knew, making holes in walls was much more “Bill” than opening a door was.

 _Well, whatever,_ said Bill. _I can explain more once I’m out. Let’s do this already! I’m sick of these grey trees!_

The statue’s large eye stared straight at Dipper, into his very being. He could easily imagine Bill’s voice coming from _it_ instead of from inside his mind. He hated seeing Bill’s true form again; it was the shape of his nightmares, the being that had tormented him for years. It was easy to separate the humanoid being from this one if he didn’t think about it too hard.

_C’mon, kid, get a move on!_

Dipper exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Bill cheered as Dipper began to gather the energy inside of his body, all the way down from his feet and up into his forehead.

He wanted Bill out of his head.

He wanted Bill gone.

That was what he focused on as the energy swirled up inside of him and gathered in his head, pressing against his temples and the back of his eyes. He wanted Bill to leave his head… He wanted Bill _gone…_

A gasp escaped Dipper’s lips as a surge of magic left his birthmark, a tangible force that manifested in a glittering yellow aura that twisted and coiled in the air like a snake.

Bill’s cheers had ceased; his mind was silent.

“...Bill?” Dipper breathed.

The yellow energy came back towards him, then swirled around his body a few times as he stared at it in awe. He reached out to touch it, and it ghosted around his fingers like a river current.

“Why -” He began to say, but before he could go any further, the yellow energy left him and surged towards the statue, vanishing inside of the stone as though it were entering a portal.

Dipper took a step back and tried to keep his breathing even as he watched the statue. The silence of the clearing - and his mind - was deafening. All he could wonder was if this was really happening. As the statue remained still, hand outstretched in an eternal deal offer, Dipper wondered if something had gone wrong. Or possibly right. Was Bill trapped again?

Then a crack appeared on the stone’s surface, reaching from the brim of the hat to far below where the statue was buried in the earth.

Dipper threw an arm up over his face as a flash of light nearly blinded him; he could hear the stone crack and fall away as a horrible, all-too-familiar laugh echoed throughout the forest.

“ _Ahahahaha!_ Finally, my time has come to _return!_ ”

Bill hovered in the air in his true form, cackling with glee as bits of stone fell away from his body. Confronted all too suddenly with that which he feared most, Dipper stumbled as he backed away, then fell back onto his rear end in the grass. Bill’s eye met his own as Dipper scrambled backwards, eventually finding himself pressed up against a tree with nowhere to go.

“What’s the matter, kid?” Bill asked as he floated closer. “I thought we were doing good! Aren’t we _allies_ now, pal? Weren’t you more _angry_ with me than you were _afraid_ of me?”

Dipper stared up at Bill and tried to speak, but couldn’t find the words.

He was back.

He was _real._

“Oh, right. _That,”_ said Bill as he rolled his eye. “You’re still spooked by this form, aren’t you? Can’t have that! I said I was gonna make you one of my henchmaniacs, and I meant it!” He chuckled and adjusted his bowtie before adding, “I was, after all, _under oath_ at the time.”

“...Are you not anymore?” Dipper asked in a quiet voice as he tried to struggle past his fear. Without Bill in his mind now, however, all the horrible flashbacks were free to rush back in, reminding him why he was so terrified in the first place.

Bill sighed and put his hands on his sides. “Well, the deal is still active until you help me bust that barrier,” he said, “so technically I still _am._ You did fulfill the main part, though, so kudos to you! Great job getting me back where I belong, kid!”

Dipper opened his mouth, then closed it again and averted his gaze. He felt so _weak_ with all the fear surging through him, making a fool of him… He knew this was going to happen. He just hadn’t really considered that Bill would be in his true form, or that the flashbacks and bad thoughts would be free to roam his mind once more.

“Still afraid of the old triangle, huh?" said Bill as he stared down at Dipper. "Here, let me help you out, Pine Tree,” he continued as he floated a few paces backwards. “This one’s a freebie. We gotta get you used to my real form, but for now - let’s bust the training wheels back out!”

Dipper looked up again, and very soon wished that he hadn’t.

Bill returned back to his flat, grey appearance first, the template for all that he was. Then he shifted, began to twist and grow, turning himself into… a skeleton? Dipper watched in horror as silvery bones took form, the one eye traveling upwards and eventually staying at the center of the forming skull’s forehead. His arms stretched out, became human-sized, as did his legs; the bottom of the triangle became a pelvis as the spine and ribcage were shaped and solidified. A jaw emerged, and with it, brilliantly white and horribly sharp teeth.

Two slit-pupiled eyes appeared in the eye sockets as organs began to grow between the bones. Then came the muscle- it appeared from behind, emerging from the spine and wrapping around the developing form like red yarn. Then veins and tendons, and then skin, a dark tan as it had been in the Dreamscape, and then vivid yellow hair, and then clothing that sprung forth from the spine just as the muscle had and wrapped around the exposed body. Black dress shoes and slacks, a yellow dress shirt and black vest, black gloves, a black bowtie - and to top it all off (quite _literally_ ), a tall and narrow tophat that floated above his head.

Bill floated in place for a few moments, then touched back down on the ground, wobbling a bit on his legs before standing straight and grinning. He licked his teeth, batted his long lashes (blinking one eye first, and then the other), then summoned his cane into existence and buried the end of it in the earth as he tightly gripped the handle.

“Now this,” said Bill, his pupils rolling around until they found Dipper, “will be _very_ interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to be much, much longer, until I realized I could just as easily split this event into two chapters and give myself a break. This one was a doozy to write.


	9. The Binding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper accidentally unlocks a mysterious new ability that sends Bill into a furious rampage. Unfortunately for Bill, his fury is equally matched.

Dipper stared up at Bill in a mixture of fear and awe as the demon tested out his body, now finally in the real world. He flexed his arms, shook his legs, wiggled his fingers, and then gave himself a slap in the face for good measure.

“Whoo!” Bill exclaimed in delight. “Feels even better with the sharp teeth! Really stings the inside of the cheek!” He pulled his cane up and tapped his cheek with the handle. “Maybe this won’t inspire so much fear, but it sure is _fun!_ ” He cackled in glee, then looked down at Dipper again and grinned wide enough to expose his gums. “Well? Time to get to work, kid!”

Dipper jerked back as one of Bill’s hands shot into his face. He stared at it for a moment in surprise, then looked up at Bill again before shifting to the side and beginning to push himself back up from the ground.

Bill pulled his hand back and snorted. “Fine, have it your way,” he said. “You’re gonna have to touch my hand eventually, y’know - we have a deal to make. Or have you decided you’d rather take your chances on your own?”

A spark of anger lit up Dipper’s insides, shining for a moment amidst his fear and dread. He clenched his fists and fought back against it, and it went out like a dying candle.

“No, I’ll accept the deal,” he said, his gaze fixed on the place where Bill’s statue had been rather than on Bill himself.

“Fantastic.” In a shocking display of intimacy that Dipper wasn’t prepared for, Bill reached out and grabbed his chin between his fingers, holding Dipper’s head in place as he stared into his eyes. “You’re gonna be a great henchmaniac, kid,” he said, smiling his too-wide smile with his too many teeth.

Dipper grabbed Bill’s wrist and wrenched his hand away, breathing hard as he threw Bill’s arm back at him and took a staggering step backwards. Bill cackled as Dipper gave him a look of both fury and horror, rubbing his chin as if he could wipe away Bill’s touch with enough force.

“Aw, come on, Pine Tree,” Bill said as he lifted his feet and began to float in front of Dipper, his arms stretched out at his sides. “I’m in my fleshbag body! No need to be afraid!”

“ _Don’t_ touch me,” Dipper hissed in reply.

The spark was back, burning hot in his gut, driving away the shadows of his fear. It was so much easier to be angry at _this_ Bill. His true form was a nightmare - _this_ form was a _dream_. The same dream he’d been having for weeks, a dream that helped him practice his abilities and mocked him for his memories.

“Let me get this over with, then,” Bill said as he stuck his hand out again. “You know the deal, kid - you join my henchmaniacs. I’ll spare everyone you care about.”

Dipper looked at the offered hand as it lit up in that familiar blue flame. “I care about a lot of people,” he said.

“No problem,” Bill replied. “We got room. Besides - I know the really important ones. Friends, family, all that noise. I saw it in your head.”

“And Waddles?” It seemed like a stupid question to ask, but he had to make sure. Plus it gave him more time to _not_ shake Bill’s hand.

“Yeah, sure,” said Bill with a roll of his eyes. “And the pig.”

He wiggled his fingers expectantly, the flame dancing in the air.

The fate of the world hung in that handshake. Dipper knew that as he lifted his own hand and looked at it in worry. Everything would begin the moment he agreed to Bill’s deal. Even with Bill out of his mind, Dipper was afraid to try and think of any plans to leave his servitude or overthrow him. He was afraid that, somehow, his adversary would still _know._

“I hope you’re not worried about your credit,” said Bill as he waited. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll make sure everyone knows how helpful you were!”

Dipper clenched his jaw. “I don’t want that,” he said.

“Why not?” asked Bill with an almost comical tilt of his head. “Don’t you want everyone to know that you were _instrumental_ to Weirdmageddon? None of this would have been possible without you!” He laughed again as Dipper exhaled hard through his nose.

 _I don’t want this,_ Dipper thought as he flexed his fingers and looked at Bill’s hand. _I don’t want him in power._

The anger and fear he felt towards Bill seemed to build up in his body, surging upwards, filling his lungs and gripping his heart before going for his head.

 _I wish I could stop him. I_ want _to stop him. I want to make it so he can’t do this. Can’t do anything._

He reached out, hesitated, then took Bill’s hand in his own.

 _I want to_ stop _him._

The blue flame sputtered and twisted in the air before shooting up and increasing in size, engulfing both Dipper and Bill’s arms. Before either of them could react to it, Bill fell from his floating position and onto his knees, severing their joined grip. The flame vanished as though it had never been there at all as Bill hunched over, both hands on the grass.

There was a moment of stillness where the silence of the grove dominated the air. Both boy and demon were locked in place, Dipper staring at his own hand, still extended, and Bill staring down at the ground.

When Dipper felt like he had come back into his body, he lowered his hand and took another step back, his heel grinding up against the bark of the tree behind him. “What…?” he began to say.

Bill looked up at him, then, and Dipper felt his blood go cold as their eyes met. Bill was _angry._

“What did you _do?_ ” Bill snarled up at him.

“Nothing!” Dipper replied, putting his hands up in defense. “I just shook your hand! That was all!” He was prepared to ask what exactly _had_ happened, but then Bill was standing up, using his cane as a support.

“I can’t float,” Bill said, staring down at his feet for a moment as he seemed to consider this. “I can’t -” He paused, looked at his free hand, and bared his teeth. “Why am I not _changing?_ I can’t _shift!_ I don’t want to be in this flesh sack anymore!”

Dipper pressed his back flat against the tree, keeping his hands raised. “Bill, I don’t know what happened,” he said. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Then how did it _happen,_ Pine Tree?” Bill snarled as he glared at Dipper, serrated teeth gnashing. “What’s _happening_ to me? _Why can’t I use my powers?_ ” He took a step forward, brandishing his cane like a weapon. “You did this. _You did this!_ But how…?”

“I don’t know,” Dipper repeated, though an idea was beginning to form in his mind even as he said it. The anger he’d felt boiling in his veins, going to his head… Energy? Magical energy? And his fervent wish that he could _stop_ Bill…

Yet he knew that magic wasn’t that easy. He couldn’t just think of something and _do_ it, he had to know what he was doing first. The idea of stopping Bill was so broad and vague that he couldn’t imagine how it could have translated into anything powerful enough to actually rid Bill of his own powers.

_So what was going on?_

Bill started pacing, one hand tangled in his hair as he stamped his cane into the ground with the other. “This isn’t right, it can’t be happening,” he muttered as he kicked up a clump of grass with his cane. “What could you possibly have…”

Dipper looked away and tried to center himself. If he could just keep himself calm, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he could figure this out. And maybe, just _maybe_ , this would work in his favor - maybe he really would _stop Bill._ A powerless demon in a fleshy body was almost just a normal guy, right? A normal, slightly-deranged guy, sure, but someone that could be overpowered and put away. Where could they put him, though? Would an ordinary room or cage be enough?

As Dipper began to think of the sorts of places normal people were contained, thoughts of stopping Bill moved to the back of his mind, and Bill quit pacing. Dipper almost missed the grin that spread across the demon's face as he held out his arm, watching as it began to transform back into its natural spindly form.

Panic rose in Dipper’s chest as Bill opened his mouth to exclaim something in delight. _No,_ Dipper thought, _no, he can’t -_

And that was all it took.

The more humanoid appearance took over again, and Bill was left staring at his three-dimensional, fleshy arm in stunned silence. He blinked once, clenched his fist, then turned to look at Dipper with an expression that he couldn’t quite read.

“You stopped paying attention to me for a moment, didn’t you?” Bill asked in a low voice. Dipper stared back at him, uncertain and more than a little worried.

“You did,” Bill asserted as he turned his body fully towards Dipper. “You did, and then you focused on me again, and you…” He looked down at his fist, bared his teeth, then looked back up at Dipper with narrowed eyes. “You rat _bastard._ ”

Dipper lifted his hands and gestured at Bill to stand down, afraid even now that the demon was going to attack him, maybe even overpower this strange lock on his abilities and destroy Dipper completely. “Bill, I don’t know what I did,” he said.

“It doesn’t matter if you _understand_ it!” Bill snapped. “What matters is that you _did_ it! You _bound_ me! You son of a _whore,_ I can’t even do that!” Before Dipper could remark on the whore comment, Bill wound his arm back and threw his cane. Dipper jumped out of the way just in time, the cane clacking against the tree behind him and falling into the grass.

“Jesus, Bill!” he yelled. “Calm down! What the heck do you mean, I _bound_ you?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, you insufferable _maggot!”_ Bill started pacing again, both hands tangling in his hair as he scratched at his head. “You _bound_ me! To _you!_ Binders aren’t even - How in hell’s _name_ did you - _Ugh!_ ”

None of Bill’s angry ranting made sense to Dipper, other than the insults. What constituted ‘binding’? How could he have done it? Was it really as easy as just fervently wishing he could somehow stop Bill? Did this mean they were linked together now? Or rather, linked together  _again?_

He had a million questions, but Bill didn’t seem in the mood to answer any of them, and Dipper was afraid to ask. Afraid in general, really, until Bill rounded on him and jabbed a finger in his direction.

“The deal is _off_ ,” growled Bill.

“What -” Dipper began to ask.

“The henchmaniacs! Your loved ones! You can _forget_ it, Pines!” Bill swiped his hands through the air in a finishing motion. “When I break free, you’re _dead!_ ”

Dipper hesitated a moment as the words sank in. He had little confidence in his new ability, knowing nothing of it - that deal was still on the table, still a viable option to survive _Bill._

“But we shook hands,” Dipper said, his gut twisting itself in knots as anxiety and anger fought inside of him.

“You used that to bind me!” Bill snapped as he threw his hands in the air. “I’m not honoring _any_ deal with you! You broke contract, kid!”

Dipper clenched his fists at his sides.

“I don’t know how I did that!” he snapped back. “And doing anything to you, fighting against you, that was never against anything we agreed on!”

“You betrayed me,” Bill snarled as he marched forward and jabbed Dipper in the chest. “I’m going to break free, and when I do, you’re _done._ You made a big mistake, Pine Tree.”

Dipper pushed Bill’s hand away. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, struggling now to keep his voice down. “Why are you so mad, anyway? Why is this the most unforgivable thing I’ve ever done?”

“You shouldn’t have been able to do it at all!” Bill yelled, right in Dipper’s face. “You put _energy_ into this! You _focused_ on it! You were so determined to stop me -”

“Why wouldn’t I be?!”

Somehow, that took Bill off guard. He stumbled over his words, then stared at Dipper for a moment before becoming enraged once again. “So you _admit_ it!”

“It was an accident, Bill!” Dipper attempted to walk away, but Bill cut him off, teeth bared and fists clenched.

“You’re going to regret this,” said Bill. Then he smiled, a wicked little grin that sent chills down Dipper’s spine. “I won’t even kill you, kid. No. That’s too easy. I’ll go after _them_ first.”

“Shut up, Bill,” Dipper said as he shoved the demon away. “Look, I didn’t mean to do it. I probably can’t even keep it up.” He hoped he could, but his expectations were low. “Why don’t we just -”

“I’ll start with your friends,” Bill went on in a menacing purr. “Soos. Red. The rich girl.”

“Knock it off,” Dipper warned. The anger inside of him - a white hot, burning fury - was beginning to overpower the fear and the anxiety. Bill was making no sense, and now… now he was just going too far.

“I’ll do it in front of you,” Bill said. “One by one. The worst ways I can come up with. And when they’re done, oh, I can start with the old man -”

“Shut up!” Dipper exclaimed. “I mean it, Bill!”

“Or what?” Bill growled as he pushed his way back into Dipper’s personal space. “What are you gonna do, kid? You think you can keep this up? Think you can beat me? Wait until I get ahold of them. Your uncles. Your _sister._ I know just how to -”

Dipper pulled one fist back, braced his feet on the ground, and slugged Bill in the jaw.

He was by no means the boxer either Stan or Mabel were, but his punch was effective; Bill reeled backwards, fell on his rear end, then grabbed his jaw as he stared up at Dipper in surprise. Dipper glared back down at him, breathing hard as he rubbed his knuckles.

“You hit me,” Bill said. “You…” He rubbed his jaw, winced, then smiled. “Ha… Hahaha… You actually _hit_ me!”

With a heavy sigh, Dipper allowed himself to relax for a moment as Bill laughed. Maybe that was all it took, just one good punch. Maybe now they could move forward… However they would be doing that. If he could just get Bill back to Ford…

“You really are trying to fight back! How _precious!”_

Dipper stiffened up again as Bill pulled himself up to his feet.

“Man, that was something!” he exclaimed. “Nice one, kid! What happens if I say worse, huh? What if I tell you _how_ I plan to torture your sister?”

“Shut _up,_ ” Dipper growled.

“Like I can’t take a little pain,” Bill teased as he grinned at Dipper and put his hands on his hips. “I live for it, kid. Pain’s the game. But imagine the pain _she’ll_ be in when -”

With an enraged yell, Dipper launched himself at Bill, and the two of them went tumbling down into the grass.

They were both a flurry of limbs and shouting as each tried to gain the upper hand. Dipper had the advantage, being as angry and driven as he was, ready and able to throw a flurry of punches and scratches at his adversary. Bill was unused to his flesh form and largely inexperienced with humanoid bodies to begin with; his every attempt to push Dipper off or strike back was met with failure. He did, however, know how to _bite_. Through the strength of his fury Dipper didn’t even acknowledge Bill sinking his fangs into his forearm, only ripped himself away before jabbing his elbow into Bill’s windpipe.

It was over as soon as it began, ending with Bill finally getting both hands under Dipper’s chest and shoving him away. Dipper landed hard on his now-bleeding arm, only then realizing the pain he was in from the deep puncture wounds Bill had left in his flesh.

“What the _hell,_ Pine Tree?!” Bill exclaimed as he sat up. He was covered in bruises and smatterings of black blood, a fact he noticed when he wiped his face with his arm. “You _wounded_ me!”

“I thought you liked it,” Dipper hissed as he pushed himself up and cradled his arm.

“That’s not the point!” Bill spat out a glob of black goo and bared his teeth, stained both with his blood and Dipper’s. “You _attacked_ me! If you think I’ll let you get away with this -”

A voice, far in the distance, startled them both to attention.

“ _Dipper!_ ” echoed the voice through the trees. “Dipper, where _are_ you?”

“Mabel,” Dipper muttered.

“Oh, great,” said Bill as he staggered to his feet. “Just great. This will go _real_ well.” He dusted his vest off, then began to walk in the direction he’d earlier thrown his cane. “If you’ll excuse me, Pine Tree…”

Dipper wasn’t excusing _anything._ He kicked one leg out and caught Bill by the shin, tripping him back into the grass. As he cried out in surprise, Dipper could hear Mabel call something and begin running in their direction. He only had a few moments before Bill managed to make a run for it - he had to act fast.

As he scrambled up, Bill pushed himself away from the ground and swore something at him.

“Dipper?” Mabel called again, much closer now.

“Mabel!” Dipper called back, his heart hammering in his chest. “Grappling hook! _Now!_ ”

True to form, she had it with her; as Mabel emerged into the clearing, she threw the weapon to her brother, who snatched it out of the air and wheeled around to point it at Bill.

Before Mabel could ask what was going on and before Bill could comprehend what he was seeing, Dipper fired.

The hook buried itself in the ground just behind Bill, leaving plenty of rope behind for Dipper to run forward with and twist around Bill’s torso before he had a chance to scurry off. Arms suddenly trapped at his sides, Bill found himself off-balance and unable to free himself; he yelled, kicked his feet, then fell onto his back and knocked his head against the hook.

“Still enjoying the pain?” Dipper sneered, his heart pounding a mile a minute in his chest as Bill swore up a storm.

He jumped as a hand touched his shoulder, then turned to face his sister. She looked frightened and alarmed and more than a little rattled, and her grip tightened on Dipper’s shoulder as she asked, “Dip, what the _hell_ is going on?”

Dipper swallowed hard and looked down at the barrel of the grappling hook. “Help me tie him up proper,” he said. “Then I can… I can tell you what’s happening.”

“Don’t even _think_ about it!” Bill snarled. “Come any closer and I’ll - I’ll - I’ll _bite!_ Don’t test me, Shooting Star!”

Mabel froze. Dipper closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Is that _Bill?_ ”

“It’s a long story,” Dipper sighed.

“Better believe it!” Bill exclaimed with a sadistic grin. “Oh, you’re gonna _love_ this, Shooting Star! Your brother -”

Dipper yanked the gun back, and Bill surged forward and knocked his forehead against one of his knees.

“Just help me get him back to the shack,” Dipper said as Bill hissed another string of obscenities. “Things are in our favor right now, and we need to get him to Grunkle Ford before that stops being the case.”

He had the exterior of someone who was calm and in control, a seasoned adventurer with more than his fair share of run-ins with the less-than-desirable sort. The truth of the matter, however, was that Dipper was on the verge of a complete panic _meltdown,_ and the only thing keeping him going were his heat-of-the-moment reflexes and sheer adrenaline. Already his body had started to feel tired and worn because of it, but he held onto his sanity with both hands while work still needed to be done.

To her credit, Mabel was just as on-the-ball as Dipper was, though her own stress came from a place of confusion and surprise. She took her grappling hook back from her brother, retracted the rope until there was only about a foot of slack, and then went about pulling the hook out of the ground and securing it to Bill’s bindings all while the demon snapped his teeth in her direction with every step she took.

“Ugh, he’s even worse with a mouth,” she said as she yanked Bill to his feet. “Why is he like this?”

“Long story,” said Dipper. “Again. I promise, I’ll explain everything.”

“Alright,” Mabel said. Then, quietly and with care, “Are you alright?”

As Bill glared daggers at him, Dipper considered the circumstances. His mind was his own again, and he could speak freely as to what had been going on without fear. His powers were increasing, and he had some that even Bill hadn’t anticipated. And now there was an actual, tangible escape from Weirdmageddon 2.0.

“I’ll be fine,” he replied, though the way Bill looked at him implied very much that he would _not_ be fine. Bill’s eyes very clearly said that his life was about to become another nightmare.

Dipper looked away, but he could still feel that gaze on his back, burning like a cold blue fire.

* * *

“You’re lucky I don’t _destroy_ you. Right here, right now.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that just be dandy, Fordsy?”

Bill grinned up at Ford from his seat in the middle of the living room, tied to one of the dining chairs like a hostage in an action flick. Ford glared back down at him with the intensity of a man whose family had very much been threatened. There was a mental standoff going on between them even as Ford clearly had the upper hand.

“Let me guess,” Bill went on as he relaxed into his bindings. “You want to study me, right? Or are you just gonna keep me around as a little torture-slave? Wanna get your rev -”

He was silenced as Ford punched him in the gut, turning his biting remarks into desperate wheezing.

“Yeah! You show ‘im, Sixer!” cheered Stan from the other side of the room.

“I can’t believe you gave yourself _lungs,”_ Ford spat. “What was the ulterior motive, Bill? Why do this to yourself?”

From the recliner a few feet away came Dipper’s voice, soft and shaky: “He was trying to keep me at ease.”

Ford’s expression softened as Bill twisted in his seat to try and get a look at Dipper. He was curled in the chair with Mabel, staring off into middle distance as she stroked his hair and tried to keep him calm enough to tell them everything. So far it had worked exceptionally well - Dipper had recounted nearly everything, from the moment Stan had been possessed to their fight in the clearing. He’d left out a few things, small details mostly - things about how he’d almost gotten along with Bill, how they’d talked about mundane things, how he’d asked Bill about his past. Not that Bill wouldn’t share those things himself, in due time.

“I know that’s what he told you,” said Ford, “but you can’t honestly believe that, Dipper. You know Bill just as well as I do. Perhaps better, now that you’ve shared headspace with him.”

“Pine Tree’s on the money, Sixer,” Bill grunted as he looked away from Dipper. “That was the motive.” He bared his teeth in another grin. “After all, he was going to join me! Be my top henchmaniac! I had to make some concessions…”

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Even if that’s true,” he said (and he knew it was, because Dipper had tearfully confessed to his agreement with Bill’s terms), “this isn’t like you. You don’t _make concessions._ Especially not for people you hate!”

Bill pulled back in the chair with a look of mock disbelief. “Me? Hate Pine Tree? Sure, he may be a no-good, low-down, two-bit backstabber, but the kid’s sharp as a tack and has the powers to back it!” His face returned to its resting place of smug and insufferable as he crossed his legs. “Let’s be real here, Sixer. You don’t think I’d do everything I could to make use of an invaluable tool in my conquest? You don’t think that’s  _exactly what I did last time?_ ”

The two of them made hard eye-contact for several moments.

It was Stan who broke the tense silence with a throaty cough. “So, uh, what are we gonna do with this guy, exactly?” he asked. “I, for one, am pretty alright with putting him in a shallow grave somewhere.”

“Oh, don’t sound so offended,” said Bill as he glanced over at Stan. “I only threatened your life because it was the easiest way to get to Pine Tree.”

Stan frowned and pounded one fist into the palm of his opposing hand. “You think _that’s_ my problem, ya freak?”

“Well, you’ve been all the way across the room since Pine Tree told you about it, so yes.”

Stan took a menacing few steps forward, which was impressive for someone wearing only his underwear and some fuzzy slippers. “You threatened my family, Blondie,” he growled. “You think I’m just gonna let you get away with that?”

“Blondie, huh?” replied Bill with an impish smile. “I thought it was more of a sunflower-yellow, myself. Why not Sunny? Oh! Or Snake Eyes! That would make a cool nickname!”

Stan rubbed his knuckles into his palm and took a few more steps towards Bill. “C’mon, Ford, just one punch. The guy deserves it!”

“Normally I wouldn’t say something like this,” said Ford, “but Stanley - I want to hit him again before you do anything.” He narrowed his eyes and leaned down so his face was level with Bill’s. “How _dare_ you threaten my brother’s life and _extort_ my nephew the way you have. Somehow, I’m going to make you regret this.”

“I’m _shaking_ ,” Bill drawled.

“I wanna hit him too!” Mabel said as she tightened her grip on her brother. “I call third punch!”

“No one’s hitting Bill.”

All eyes on the room turned back towards Dipper as he sat up straight in the armchair and shrugged off Mabel’s hands.

“Well, well, well,” purred Bill, lips raised in a snarling grin. “Looks like someone still wants to be friends.”

Dipper stood up and walked towards the middle of the room, his eyes on Ford instead of Bill. “It’s what he wants,” he said as he placed a hand on the back of Bill’s chair. “Look at him. I already beat the tar out of him, and it didn’t change anything. He thrives on attention.”

“I don’t care how _he_ feels about it,” said Stan. “I just wanna break his nose!”

“It’s not worth it,” Dipper said with a shake of his head. “I don’t feel any better after fighting him. You won’t feel any better after hitting him, either." He took his hand off of the chair to rub his bandaged forearm. “He’s… a prisoner. Not a punching bag.”

“Why can’t he be both?” Stan asked.

“No, Dipper’s right,” said Ford. “I should have been thinking more clearly. All of this has just been… so _infuriating._ ”

“The movement passes!” Bill exclaimed. “One more thing, though - what’s this about me being a _prisoner,_ Pine Tree?” He looked up at Dipper with clenched grin. “I offered you freedom, power, safety - and this is what you do to me? Moreover, how exactly do you plan on keeping this little charade going? You can’t bind me forever. You’re not strong enough. You’ll slip up, you’ll get distracted… You’ll have to _sleep._ ”

Dipper avoided Bill’s gaze, though he could feel it burning into the side of his head.

“Grunkle Ford?” Dipper pleaded.

Ford rubbed his chin and began to pace the living room floor. “I’ll admit, I’m not very familiar with this sort of thing,” he said. “You say it has to do with your concentration, correct?”

“I think so,” said Dipper. “When I stopped focusing on Bill, he almost reverted back to his true form. As long as I keep the idea of… _binding_ him in my head, it seems to stay. That’s how most of my powers work.”

Mabel jumped out of the armchair and hugged Dipper from behind, causing him to jump in surprise. “I can’t believe my brother can use _magic!_ ” she exclaimed. “This is so exciting!”

“Indeed, it is quite the revelation,” agreed Ford. “Perhaps you’re the key to sealing the barrier between our worlds as well? If you can stop Bill…”

“The _key!_ ” Bill said with a surprised laugh. “Yes! He _is_ the key, Sixer!”

“Can I _please_ punch him?” asked Stan.

“Back to the matter at hand,” said Ford with a pointed look at his brother. “You need to stay focused on Bill… I have some ways of avoiding sleep, but ultimately the human body requires it, and I doubt your subconscious can keep a solid grasp on this concept without help.”

“So can you help?”

“Undoubtedly,” Ford said with a wave of his hand. “But I’ll need time. Time in which I’m not sure what to do with _him._ ”

Bill scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I thought you were just gonna leave me in the chair,” he said. “Do you actually plan on letting me go? Or is it a matter of how you’re gonna drag me somewhere else without getting a swift kick to the face?”

“Oh, _I_ can watch him,” Stan said with a sinister grin as he rubbed his knuckles. “We’ll have _loads_ of fun together, triangle man.”

“Maybe later, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper said as he stepped up beside Bill’s chair. “Right now… _I_ have to stay with him. I have to keep my mind on him. And this is all my responsibility anyway.”

“Dipper, no!” Mabel said as she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “You had no choice!”

“She’s right,” said Ford. “This isn’t your fault, Dipper, nor is it inherently your responsibility. We will _all_ take responsibility for this, to protect Gravity Falls - and perhaps the entire universe.”

“How noble,” Bill quipped.

Dipper offered his sister a strained smile, then turned back to Ford. “Grunkle Ford - you have handcuffs, right?”

An uncomfortable silence overtook the room. Mabel gave Dipper a worried look as Bill looked up at him like he was insane.

“...Well, yes,” Ford said with a bit of reluctance. “I have… a variety of them. But Dipper, you can just keep him here. You can watch TV while I work. I know he’ll be loud, but -”

“I could fall asleep watching TV,” Dipper insisted. “Besides, I have things to do. And…”

Could he really bring himself to say the rest?

The past few weeks with Bill had been an experience unlike any other, mostly for the worst - but some parts had been good. Or at the very least, enlightening. And Bill had openly admitted that he admired Dipper and wanted him to be on his _side,_ with the other crazy monsters from the Nightmare Realm.

He was a terrifying beast of unfathomable power. He had tried to destroy the world for his own ends, and had threatened the lives of all Dipper held dear. He was willing to back out of everything because of an accident, and antagonized Dipper intentionally, poking and prodding at every weakness he had.

And yet…

The honesty deal was broken when Bill was bound, wasn’t it? There was no telling if he meant anything he’d said. And for all that Dipper hated Bill, for all the animosity flowing freely between them, something about seeing his magic tutor and the one who had kept him nightmare-free all that time tied to a chair just seemed _undignified._

Without the anger or the fear of the afternoon coursing through his veins, Dipper was left with sympathy and pity.

“...I just think it’ll work better this way,” he said after a small pause. They would all assume he was under Bill’s influence if he told them any of what he was _really_ thinking.

Stan grunted and crossed his arms. “He tries anything funny, you use those cuffs against him, Dipper,” he said. “Swing him around, yank him down, sock him in the gut. Got it?”

Ford shook his head and sighed. “Let me go get a pair, then,” he said. “I hope you can really handle this, Dipper.” He shot one last glare at Bill, then turned away and headed for the basement.

“You’re just gonna handcuff his arms behind his back, right?” Mabel asked.

Dipper lifted his left hand and wiggled his fingers. “It’ll be easier to make him follow me if he’s physically attached to me,” he said in a resigned sort of way, a sad smile on his face.

“On second thought,” said Bill, “I _will_ take that punch, Mackerel Head. Knock me out cold, would you?”


	10. Chained and Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper spends some quality time with Bill and learns some interesting things about Bill's plans.

As Ford searched for a pair of handcuffs down in his lab and Stan and Mabel discussed the best ways in which to incapacitate their prisoner, Dipper kept his focus on Bill, who had gone quiet after Ford’s departure and was staring off into middle distance. He seemed lost in thought; from the angle he was at, Dipper could just barely make out Bill’s third eye under his hair, squinted in concentration.

Before Dipper had a chance to ask what was on his mind, Bill sat back in the chair and crossed his legs again. Their eyes met, and Dipper felt a chill crawl up his spine. He just barely resisted the urge to shiver.

“You’re a softie, kid,” Bill said with a grin. “Here I am, merciless at your feet, and you decide to tie me up like a dog instead of taking me out back and shooting me like one. After all those threats I made, too!”

Dipper glanced off to the side and crossed his arms. “Yeah, well…” He was free to say anything now that Bill wasn’t in his mind, but no excuses came to him. And he didn’t want Stan or Mabel to hear any of the _real_ reasons he had for giving Bill such a lenient sentence; it all boiled down to Bill being right - he _was_ a softie.

“Relax, Pine Tree,” Bill said with a tilt of his head. “I can guess why. I was in your head for weeks - and you were so _determined_ to figure me out. Still trying that route, eh kid?”

“Keep your voice down,” Dipper muttered as he glanced up at his family. Then, with a resigned sigh, he unfolded his arms and sat down next to Bill’s chair. “So what now? You take every chance you can get to try and escape or hurt my loved ones?”

Bill hummed, then crossed his legs the other way and leaned towards Dipper. “No, I’m not going to do that,” he said with a smile. “Listen, kid, I’ve been thinking - and I went about this all wrong. You surprised me, is all. Binding is usually… Ah, I’ll tell you later. Point being, I wasn’t expecting it. I thought I had an assured path to victory.”

“I thought you did too,” Dipper admitted as he drew his knees up to his chest.

Bill nodded. “Of course,” he said. “But you’re more powerful than you look - and that’s important. Thing is, I doubt anyone in this day and age is gonna be able to teach you how to properly use your abilities, even if you’ve figured out the key element to using them. Know what I mean?”

Dipper frowned up at Bill. “I don’t need my powers,” he said. “I’ll never need them again.”

“Won’t you?” Bill offered Dipper another one of his too-wide grins. “Think about how much it could improve your monster-hunting. Or the dangerous situations you could get out of!”

“Get to the point, Bill,” Dipper huffed. “I know you want to make a deal. Can you even do that when you’re bound?”

Bill shrugged. “We’ll use the honor system,” he said. “Look, kid, I’ll be straight with you - Sixer intends to find a way to destroy me as soon as he’s figured out how to fully contain me.”

Dipper gave Bill a shocked look.

“What, didn’t get that vibe?” Bill asked with raised eyebrows. “I sure did. In any case, I don’t want that to happen. I’d rather keep existing. So let’s make a deal - in exchange for mentoring you and full compliance on my part, you keep Sixer from dragging me into that underground fort and putting me to pasture.”

Dipper looked down at his legs, eyes wide. “I… didn’t even think about that,” he said. Deep down he was bothered by the fact that it distressed him at all - in the past, all he would have wanted was to see Bill destroyed. But now that he knew the demon on a deeper level, it seemed like such a _waste._ For all the same reasons he didn’t want Bill to remain tied to a chair, he didn’t want to see him wiped from the face of the universe either.

He looked back up at Bill and made intentional eye-contact. “Is that really it?” he asked. “You just want me to keep you alive? And you’ll be totally compliant?”

“Better than the alternative,” said Bill with a shrug. “Besides - and here’s me being honest with you - it might give me a chance to turn you over to _my_ side. Maybe you’ll be one of my henchmaniacs after all!”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Sure, Bill,” he said. “I’ll _definitely_ get over my issues with Weirdmageddon and _join you_.”

“Hey, anything can happen,” Bill said with a grin. “Just look at you - you can bind! Didn’t see that one coming!”

Over near the recliner, Mabel finally noticed what was going on and pointed it out to Stan.

“Well, whatever happens,” said Dipper, not noticing their attention, “I’m still cuffing you until Grunkle Ford can make something to help keep my mind on you. I know you’ll just go back to Plan A if you get free.”

“Fair enough,” Bill said as he leaned back in the chair. “I suppose even after _weeks_ of nothing but _complete_ honesty, you still have _every_ right to not trust me…”

“Are you honestly trying to _guilt_ me right now?”

“Worth a shot.”

Dipper sighed and shook his head as Bill chuckled.

“What’s so funny, triangle man?” Stan asked, hands at his hips.

Dipper looked over in surprise as Bill turned to meet Stan’s glare. “Oh, just a little joke between myself and Pine Tree,” he said with a grin. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Stop pretending you’re friends with my brother!” Mabel said as she walked over and stood behind Dipper. “You think we just _forgot_ everything that happened before?”

“Not friends,” Bill corrected. “ _Forced allies._ Or at least that’s how Pine Tree sees it.” He tilted his head and smiled at Dipper. “Right, Pine Tree?”

Before Mabel could ask what that meant and before Dipper could defend himself, Ford reappeared in the doorway holding an ordinary pair of steel handcuffs.

“You wouldn’t believe how hard it was to find these,” he said as he approached. “I have handcuffs for almost all situations… various monsters and beings, you know… but apparently I only ever thought to obtain one ordinary human set!”

“...Cuffs for any situation?” Stan inquired, one eyebrow raised.

“Kinky!” exclaimed Bill.

Ford went bright red as both Dipper and Mabel yelled in outrage and turned to Bill. “Dude, gross!” Dipper said as he shoved one of Bill’s legs. “Don’t say stuff like that!”

“Why are you just _shoving_ him? Punch him!” said Mabel.

“You two should be more supportive of Sixer’s _personal hobbies_ ,” Bill cackled.

“Enough, enough!” Ford said as he walked forward, his face still red. “Let’s just get this over with! Dipper, are you still sure this is what you want to do?”

Dipper pushed himself up to his feet and put a hand on the back of Bill’s chair. “I’m sure,” he said. “You work on some way to keep my mind on Bill. I’ll keep him contained.”

“With all due respect,” said Stan, “why are we letting _Dipper_ choose how to handle this? That guy was _hiding_ in my head and it wore me out for weeks! Who knows what kinda stuff he’s been up to, workin’ out in the open?”

“ _I_ know what he’s been up to,” Dipper replied firmly. “And I’m the one who has him… bound.” For a moment, he contemplated revealing the offer Bill had given him, but decided against it. That would be better discussed further before he told his family he was even _considering_ it.

“You _have_ been awfully tired, though,” Mabel said as she put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “And you’ve been so stressed out… At least let us _help_ you, Dipper.”

Dipper smiled and put a hand on top of Mabel’s. “Of course you can help me,” he said. “I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Just enduring it alone these past few weeks… it’s been hell.” His smile faded, and he glanced down at Bill. “What I need you and Grunkle Stan to do right now is guard the exits. If Bill gets away from me somehow, I need to know you’ll stop him.”

“Oh, I’ll stop him alright,” said Stan as he pounded his fist into his opposing palm.

“But where will _you_ be?” Mabel asked.

Dipper hesitated. He hadn’t really thought that far; in all honesty, he’d only been thinking about being linked to Bill. He hadn’t considered where they might go or what they might do. It would be smarter to stay close to his family, but at the same time, he wanted to speak with Bill alone on the matter of his offer.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Bill cut him off.

“Well, considering that I made him skip breakfast this morning, I’d wager he’ll be in the kitchen,” Bill said as he bounced his crossed leg and watched the way it moved. “Unless you’re not hungry, Pine Tree?”

“You don’t need to answer for him,” Mabel growled as Dipper put a hand to his stomach.

“...I am, actually,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I think I’ll get some food. I totally forgot I hadn’t eaten today.”

Bill gave Mabel a smug look as Ford stepped behind his chair.

“Then we have our duties,” Ford said as he waved Dipper to come closer. “Let’s go ahead and seal the deal here.”

Dipper held his left hand out, and Ford put one cuff around his wrist and gently closed it. Then, with much less care, he grabbed Bill’s bound right hand and slapped the opposing cuff on it.

“Ow!” Bill whined. “Careful back there, Sixer!”

“Mabel, I’ll leave you in charge of the keys,” Ford said as he handed them over. “I trust you’ll keep them safe.”

“Of course!” said Mabel. “No one is touching these until Dipper says so!”

“Good.” Ford nodded, then knelt down and began to untie Bill from the chair.

Free from his physical bindings, Bill stretched out both legs, then abruptly stood to his feet, yanking Dipper along with him.

“Finally!” he said. “I was so tired of sitting down! I can’t wait to do it again while you stuff your face!”

Dipper yanked his wrist back in annoyance, then yelped as Bill almost toppled into him. He hadn’t really thought that one through.

“You sure you can handle this, Dipper?” Ford asked with great worry.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Dipper replied as he put distance between himself and Bill.. “Trust me - I know I can overpower him in this state. Everything will be okay.”

Ford put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “For your sake, my boy, I hope you’re right,” he said.

As Ford turned and began to walk away, Dipper thought of what Bill had said - about how Ford would destroy him as soon as he had the chance. He thought Ford was too good a person for that; yet all the same, Bill Cipher was a bad enough being for Ford to forego any attempts at being kind.

He had already done that once, after all, thirty years prior.

As Stan turned away to station himself at the door to the gift shop, Mabel walked beside her brother and his charge as they headed for the kitchen.

“Are you _really_ sure about this, Dip?” Mabel asked as they turned into the hallway. “There have got to be better ways to do this… You know, ways that will at least get him out of _earshot._ ”

Bill chuckled as Dipper replied, “He’s been in my _head_ for weeks, Mabel. I’m pretty used to him eavesdropping on everything I say. I can manage it a bit longer.”

“And what then?” Mabel put out a hand and stopped Dipper before he entered the kitchen, Bill stopping beside him and pretending to fiddle with his gloves as though he wasn’t listening. “You just let him roam free? I don’t care if he doesn’t have powers, he’s _dangerous._ ”

Dipper glanced at Bill. “Grunkle Ford will find a way to keep him contained to the Shack,” he said. “And once I can focus on him constantly, and don’t have to worry about my attention slipping… I can control him.”

He expected Bill to laugh, and was surprised when he didn’t.

Mabel didn’t look convinced in the slightest, regardless of Bill’s non-reaction. “Dipper,” she said, lowering her voice as if to keep it from Bill. “This is _Bill Cipher._ Almost drove Grunkle Ford crazy? Hacked into Grunkle Stan’s brain? Possessed you? Caused the apocalypse, _nearly killed us_ , and left you with lingering mental trauma?”

Bill finally piped up. “Pretty impressive rap sheet, huh?”

Both twins glared at him, and he offered them a pleasant smile before looking down to mess with his bowtie.

Dipper turned back to his sister and put a hand on her shoulder. “I know who he is,” he said, gentle but firm. “Mabel, you’ve got to trust me. Now that I can actually talk to you and Grunkle Ford, I’ve got all the resources I need. I can do this.”

With some amount of hesitance, Mabel offered her brother a smile and reached up to put a hand over his. “...Alright, Dipper,” she said. “I trust you. Just be careful, okay? And if it gets to be too much, cuff him to _me._ I can handle him.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Dipper said with a smile.

Mabel leaned in for a tight hug, one which Dipper only reciprocated with one arm as to not drag Bill closer. After a few moments they parted, and Mabel stationed herself at the back door as she shooed her brother towards the kitchen to eat. He was reluctant, afraid of what might happen as soon as she was out of view, but obliged regardless. He was hungry - and he needed to speak with Bill.

Cereal was Dipper’s food of choice, and as he moved around the kitchen, he found Bill matching him step-for-step, making no attempts to overpower him or even generally mess with him.

“So are you really going to be _compliant?_ ” Dipper asked as he poured milk over a pile of sugary cereal, expecting Bill to yank his wrist and spill the milk everywhere at any moment.

Bill chuckled. “She can still hear us,” he said in a low voice, teeth gleaming in the bright light Ford had installed above the table. “She’s listening as intently as she can. Would you expect any less?”

Dipper drew his lips into a tight line. So focused what he on his prisoner’s potential antics that he had stopped thinking about what was going on outside of the kitchen. Bill was right, of course he was; Mabel was ever-vigilant, ever- _nosy._ If he wanted alone time with Bill to speak about the terms of their contract, he would have to _ask_ for it. He would have to let Mabel know his intentions.

All he’d wanted for _weeks_ was to be open and honest with her. Now, the idea gave him a pang of anxiety deep in his gut. He didn’t want to have to _explain_ himself.

“Ahem.” Dipper looked up as Bill held a finger upwards, a piddly blue flame floating above it. It went out as Dipper focused again, and Bill put his hand down.

“Just a show of good faith, kid,” Bill said as Dipper stared at him in a mix of confusion and annoyance. “See? You can trust me.”

“As if,” Dipper replied as he grabbed his cereal bowl and headed for the table.

Bill sat next to him in silence, right hand laid next to Dipper’s atop the table as he placed his left in the lap of his crossed legs. It was eerie, having him so close and so _under control,_ wondering with each passing moment what he might do and having him do nothing at all. As he began to eat, Dipper kept stealing glances over at Bill, and almost every time he found the demon looking around the kitchen with vague interest as though he hadn’t seen it a hundred times through Dipper’s eyes already.

On his final glance, he found Bill staring back at him, gaze intent.

“What?” Dipper asked through a mouthful of sugar.

Bill smiled and leaned forward, resting his left forearm on the table. “You keep _surprising_ me, Pine Tree,” he said, now loud enough that Mabel would surely hear. “You know, I never gave you much thought before - Shooting Star always seemed more _powerful_ than you. Dumber, maybe, but _strong._ You, though… You’re _fascinating,_ kid. I never knew.”

“Don’t call my sister dumb,” Dipper said, brows furrowed. The rest of what Bill said may as well have been nonsense.

Bill leaned back and held his hands up, jerking Dipper’s right hand away from the bowl. “Hey, no offense meant, Pine Tree,” he said as Dipper glared at him. “Let’s not start fighting again, alright?”

Dipper yanked his arm back and picked his spoon back up. “She’s not dumb,” he reiterated, gaze turning back to his food. Few things irritated him as much as other people mocking Mabel for being less intelligent than he was. She was still smart, and she was crafty, too. She just saw the world through a different lens. It would be pointless to explain as much to Bill, but it was the truth.

Silence settled between them again as Dipper finished his food and Bill continued to examine his surroundings.

“Is everything okay in there?” Mabel called just as Dipper began to stand up.

“We’re fine,” he called back as Bill stood next to him. “Just finishing up!”

Dishes dumped into the sink, Bill still following him step-for-step, Dipper took a deep breath before walking back out into the hallway.

“Well, you survived,” Mabel said with a small laugh as they approached. “It didn’t sound like he gave you any trouble…” She narrowed her eyes, then, and pointed a menacing finger at Bill. “Don’t think we’re not onto you, you weirdo,” she said.

Bill smiled.

“Uh… I’m gonna go upstairs, Mabel,” said Dipper, averting his gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh.” She looked between Dipper and Bill, then settled on Dipper and looked him up and down. “Yeah, I guess you should probably change, your clothes are filthy. Need me to hold Bill?”

Dipper sucked in a deep breath as Bill rocked on his heels and continued smiling as though everything were going fine. For him, it probably was.

“I… need to talk to Bill. Alone.”

There was a moment of silence between the three of them as Mabel tried to process what her brother had just said.

The house was quiet; it was the weekend, and Soos and Melody weren’t working. Stan hadn’t abandoned his post in favor of the television and wasn’t, at that moment, in the middle of a coughing fit. And Ford was down in the basement. Everything came down to Mabel and Dipper and Bill, and none made any sound.

Then Mabel spoke again.

“No you don’t,” she said, eyes narrowing at Bill. “He doesn’t control you anymore, Dipper. You can -”

“I _want_ to.”

Mabel didn’t look convinced.

“Look,” Dipper said, lowering his voice to ensure that Stan wouldn’t hear, “I can overpower Bill at any time. I’ve got him magically tied up! You’ve got to trust that I can do this.”

Mabel’s expression faltered, her grip on her grappling hook going slack.

“ _Trust_ me.”

With a sigh, Mabel seemed to relent, her shoulders dropping as she moved closer to the door. “I hope you’re right, bro-bro,” she said in a small voice. “I just don’t get what’s gotta be so… secret.”

“It’s guy stuff,” Bill said, casual as you please. “Y’know. Not for _girl_ ears.”

“Shut up,” said Dipper as he began to head for the stairs, yanking Bill along behind him. “I wouldn’t talk about _guy stuff_ with you in a million years.”

“I can wait longer than that,” Bill shot back, laughing when Dipper gave him a glare in response.

Mabel watched them go with a look and feel of great unease. She knew Stan or Ford would never have allowed this - but she also knew her brother. She _trusted_ him.

She just hoped she wasn’t making a mistake.

* * *

 

“Pull yourself together, Pine Tree, you already cried your heart out today.”

From his place on the bed - flat on his back, left arm dangling limply from the chain connecting him to Bill - Dipper looked over and blinked with a deliberate slowness. “I am together,” he said. “I’m just exhausted.”

“So am I just supposed to stand here and look pretty?” Bill asked as he put his free hand on his hip. “We came up here to talk, kid. So get those lips movin’.”

Dipper rubbed his forehead and sighed. There was so _much_ to approach, so many things to ask… And what guarantee did he have that Bill would even be straight with him?

“Why are my powers so important?”

 _Lame,_ Dipper thought even as he said it.

Bill raised an eyebrow, then rolled his eyes before plopping down on the small space left on the edge of the bed, cuffed hand crossed over his legs. He took no notice of Dipper’s immediate discomfort with their close quarters as he spoke.

“Good question, kid.” He seemed to think for a moment, then looked down at Dipper with a thin smile. “I guess by now you know well enough that magic is a somewhat natural occurrence in your species. And others, but really, what do they matter? In any case, under normal circumstances I wouldn’t consider your pathetic skills anything worth my time. However… there’s two things that make you important, kid.”

If he extended his fingers, Dipper could brush the tips against Bill’s thigh, and he could feel the warmth of the demon’s body on his side. Overcoming the urge to try and bolt was almost overwhelming.

“So… what are those things?”

Bill looked away, glancing around the room for a moment before settling on the triangular window. The sun was just beginning to set, casting shades of gold and orange into the attic and across Bill’s sharp face.

“Well, you can _bind,”_ he said. “Binding magic is powerful and usually the only thing people who use it can do. It’s been a long time since I met anyone who could do it _and more,_ and personally, I’ve never been able to get the hang of it.” He chuckled, then, soft and short. “And your binding works the way the rest of your abilities do. It’s not some incantation, or a spell, it’s… thought. Thought and focus, just like I taught you. No physical restrictions, either; just a loss of power. Though you did leave enough for a few things.”

Dipper sat up a bit, fists clenched on the sheets. “I left power in you?” he asked, alarmed.

Bill raised an eyebrow, then pointed up to the tiny black top hat floating above his head. “Harmless things,” he clarified as Dipper stared at his hat. “Things like the magic keeping me in this form - though I can’t seem to shift _out_ of it, so maybe that isn’t you. Maybe the only thing you missed was the hat.” He shrugged. “I’d look ridiculous without it, anyway.”

With a roll of his eyes, Dipper leaned back against his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. “Okay, so I can do this binding thing, which isn’t normal. What else makes my powers _important?_ I mean, if you said I’m in the same class as you, shouldn’t most of my abilities be things you can already do?”

“In theory, sure. But you already did the binding thing. And…” Bill trailed off and looked across the room, over to Mabel’s bed. Dipper tilted his head and watched Bill’s face, trying to read his expression.

“You remember Ax,” he said after a long few moments. “Creator of magic, one with the universe, blah blah who cares. Well, he told me something.”

Dipper narrowed his eyes. “Wait, he _told_ you something?” he asked. “Directly? To you?”

Bill nodded. “Sure did. He’s been keepin’ tabs on me for millennia, kid. Knows all, sees all, likes to apply that to my _personal business._ Regardless, we had a talk. Little one-on-one, just him and me. And he told me…” He paused, deliberating.

“Told you what?” Dipper asked.

“...Told me you had powers, more or less. Implied that you were important in some cosmic way. So I decided to turn that on its head and use you for my own gain.” Bill shrugged again, acting as though this was no big reveal, just some weekend gossip. “If you were noteworthy enough for Ax to bring you up, then you’re _powerful_. Or at least that’s how I see it.”

Dipper sat up so fast that it seemed to startle Bill, and then they were face-to-face, almost nose-to-nose.

“An _all-powerful god_ said I was _cosmically important?_ ” he breathed.

Bill blinked, wrinkled his nose, then put his free hand on Dipper’s chest and pushed him away. “Uh, yeah, kid. More or less.”

“And you’re telling the truth?” Dipper asked, suddenly not caring about the hand on his chest or their close proximity or anything that would have been bothering him before. His eyes were glimmering like stars.

“Well, yeah,” said Bill. “Kid, if you weren’t somehow important, I wouldn’t be putting up with _any_ of this.” He gestured with his left hand, dragging Dipper’s right along with it. “It’s why I simmered down. You’re still powerful, and Ax said… Well, nevermind what Ax said. Point is, your powers are important because the big guy said so.”

Dipper flopped back on his pillow and thought about what he’d just heard. If this was true - and it could just be Bill trying to manipulate him, somehow - but _if_ it was true, it changed _everything._ He was _important._ He _meant something._ Having powers was cool, but having cosmic importance? Being more than just a speck on a tiny ball of dirt in the vast expanse of the universe?

That was mind-blowing.

Bill watched him for a few moments before shaking his head and looking away. “Well, enjoy that, Pine Tree. Now, about our contract…?”

Dipper turned his head to look at Bill. “It’s not just to make sure Ford doesn’t destroy you, is it? You really are hoping to get me on your side.”

“Well, yeah.” Bill flashed his teeth in a grin. “Kid, you’re the key to victory, if I can win you over.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Then I’m tied to you for the rest of your natural life, I guess.” Bill cocked his head. “Unless you put me back into the Mindscape. But that would take… a lot of power. You’d have to destroy my physical form, then lock my being back in the Nightmare Realm. Or wherever. Up to you, really.”

Dipper looked off to the side, then back at Bill. “Then I guess that’s what I’ll have to do,” he said. “I have to become powerful enough to put you back where you belong.”

Bill chuckled and put a finger to his chin. “Where I belong, huh? Far as I’m concerned, that’s somewhere else entirely - but okay, kid. That’s your goal. Guess I’ll just have to try this all again in a few hundred years if you don’t see reason.”

Dipper tilted his head back and sighed. He wondered if he could tie Bill to the Mindscape so strongly that he’d never be able to go anywhere again. How long would it take to get that kind of power? Months? _Years?_ What was the long-term plan, in that case? Leave Bill in Ford’s custody for most of the year? What if he tried to destroy him?

 _That would be way easier than training to lock him away,_ Dipper thought. _Just get rid of him for good._

Even still, he couldn’t bring himself to really consider that option.

Besides, Bill said he was _cosmically important._ If he kept Bill restrained, used him as a tutor… He could achieve amazing things, in theory. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe he’d truly turned this situation around.

Maybe Bill Cipher could be used for _good._

“So you’ll be compliant and train me in magic,” Dipper said. “And in exchange, I protect you from Grunkle Ford.”

“Yep.”

Dipper sat up again, shifted so that he wasn’t so horribly close to Bill, and held up his right hand, low enough so that he didn’t pull of the chain of the cuffs. Bill looked down at it in mild surprise, then held up his left, lifting both their hands upwards.

As they clasped together, there was no blue flame. No sense of impending doom. Just the warmth of Bill’s human-like palm underneath his black glove.

“We have a deal, then,” Bill said with a grin.

Their hands fell apart as loud steps on the stairs made them both look towards the door. Before either could say anything, the door flung open, Ford bursting in with Stan and Mabel behind him.

“Dipper!” Ford exclaimed. “Are you alright?!”

“Nice to see you too, Fordsy,” Bill cooed.

“I’m fine, Grunkle Ford,” Dipper said with a nervous smile. “I just… I needed to talk with Bill about…”

Before anyone could take notice of the way he trailed off, Bill picked up the slack.

“You wouldn’t believe the things I saw in this kid’s head,” he said with a sinister chuckle. “He practically had to beg me to not tell you all! Well, beg and threaten…”

Dipper stared at Bill for a moment, then caught up with what he was saying and  hurried to continue. “Oh, uh… Damn, Bill, why’d you have to tell them?” He tried to really sell being angered instead of surprised.

“Whoops,” Bill said with a flip of his cuffed hand, yanking Dipper’s forward. “Guess I just can’t keep this mouth shut!”

Ford had visibly relaxed, but still looked rather shaken; Stan was ready to fight behind him. And Mabel, of course, was giving Dipper a hard look - she saw right through him.

“Dipper, you needn’t worry about us judging you for your thoughts,” Ford said. “I’ve seen them before, after all - they were never that bad.” He smiled, then went on more firmly. “You shouldn’t isolate yourself with Bill. It has the potential to be very dangerous.”

Bill clacked his teeth together in response.

“You’re right, Grunkle Ford,” Dipper agreed as he pressed an unseen hand to Bill’s back to get him to stand. Once he did, Dipper swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up as well. “It’s just, I’ve been alone with him in my head for weeks, you know? I’m so used to it…”

“Well, let’s try to get you out of that mindset,” Ford said as he motioned for Dipper to come over. “Come on, let’s get down to my lab. “I believe I’ve got just the thing to keep your mind on Bill no matter what happens.”

Stan grumbled something and headed back down the stairs. Mabel stared at Dipper for a moment longer, glared at Bill, and then followed her Grunkle. Ford remained by the door as Dipper and Bill approached.

“It’ll be good to get those handcuffs off, eh?” Ford said as he put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “Then we can work on getting you away from -”

“Actually, I think he needs to stay near me,” Dipper blurted out.

Bill did a good job of hiding his surprise. Ford, however, did not.

“Why’s that, my boy?” he asked.

Dipper jiggled his right forearm and the cuffs along with it, then stopped when it caused his puncture wounds to ache. “It’s the binding,” he said. “Even if I focus on Bill, it gets weaker with distance. I can keep him _near_ me by force, uh, with the binding… But if you remove him, and I let you, it might stop working.”

It was a lie. A bold-faced lie. But it had to work.

There was a tense moment as Ford considered Dipper’s words. He looked visibly distressed; he very much didn’t want his grand-nephew to spend any more time with Bill, that much was certain. But if there was no choice other than to keep him close, what could be done? Dipper wondered if he was about to suggest they just go into the lab to destroy Bill, but he knew that creating a new weapon powerful enough to do such a thing would take time.

“So,” Bill piped up, smiling wide, “I take it I’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight? Unless Pine Tree wants to share, of course.”

Somehow, Dipper had neglected to think about sleeping arrangements.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one gave me a lot of trouble, but then I managed to get rolling at was over my typical word count before I knew it. Sorry no kinky cuff-play happened, but come on, guys, what did you really expect? That stuff is for LATER. ;)


	11. Concessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Give a little, get a lot.

“It’s a subliminal message generator, you see - as long as you wear it, it will constantly project subtle thoughts of Bill into your mind, hopefully maintaining your focus  _ just enough  _ so that you can keep up this spell of yours.”

“Did you have to put it in a  _ hat, _ Grunkle Ford?”

Ford gave Dipper a surprised look, then looked down at the hat in his hands - one of the pine tree hats from the gift shop, identical to the one Dipper had worn almost exclusively for his entire first summer in Gravity Falls. 

“I thought you liked hats, Dipper,” Ford said sheepishly. 

Dipper ran a hand through his hair and sighed, Bill chuckling next to him. “I  _ do.  _ But what if he just takes it off while I sleep?” Perhaps not a possibility, were Bill being sincere about his compliance, but there was no way to know that yet. Dipper had to approach this from every possible angle until he was sure he knew what was going on. 

Ford perked up and smiled. “Oh, I have that covered!” he said as he put the hat on Dipper’s head. “Wait right here!” Before Dipper could say anything, Ford vanished into the clutter of his lab. 

“Nice to see you back in your symbol, kid,” Bill said as Dipper adjusted the hat on his head. 

“Wendy’s gonna be pissed,” Dipper said as he pushed the brim up. “I mean, not  _ really,  _ but… gonna have the same hat…”

“Mm.”

Ford returned to their riveting conversation with a large syringe in hand. “This should do the trick,” he said as he approached Bill’s side. “It’s worked on almost everything else I’ve tried it on, in any case.”

“What’s that, Sixer? Some kind of -  _ ow!” _

Bill, weaker now in his unpowered humanoid form, was unable to jerk away as Ford held his arm in place and depressed the plunger. When he was finished, Bill snatched his arm back with a snarl. 

“How  _ dare _ you!”

Paying Bill no mind, Ford put the syringe down on his desk and grinned. “With some luck, that should knock him out for a number of hours, rendering him harmless. Pretty ingenious, don’t you think?”

Dipper looked over at Bill, whose eyelids had begun to fall as he glared at Ford. 

“You drugged him?” Dipper asked, incredulous. “Just now?”

“How else are you supposed to deal with this sort of thing?” Ford asked in return as Bill slumped against Dipper’s shoulder. 

Dipper jumped, then put a hesitant hand against Bill to try and push him away. “I told you not to touch me,” he muttered.

“You think I can help it?” Bill slurred as he grasped at Dipper’s shirt. “I’m - he  _ stuck me  _ with - Pine Tree, I’m falling.”

With just enough time before they both went tumbling to the floor, Dipper slipped his free hand under Bill’s opposite arm and held him up as his legs buckled beneath him. All the while, Ford was looking on with his hands at his hips, impressed by his own solution and not at all bothered by the scene before him. 

“There we are! Say, maybe we can just keep him in a comatose state until we find out how to dispose of him properly,” Ford said as he put a hand to his chin. 

Dipper’s blood went cold. 

“Told you,” Bill murmured as he hooked his fingers into both the collar of Dipper’s shirt and the waistband of his jeans. The hand at his collar was the one cuffed to Dipper’s left, keeping his hand pressed against Bill’s chest so they wouldn’t touch each other any further. 

As he reluctantly wrapped the entirety of his free arm around Bill’s back to keep him on his feet, Dipper said, “Let’s not do anything too drastic, Grunkle Ford. He’s… He’s a good experiment, you know? To figure out how this binding thing works? Maybe we can figure out what to do with him after I know more.”

“Are you sure -”

“I’m exhausted,” Dipper said all of the sudden. “I need to go see Mabel and get these cuffs off. You think Bill will be asleep long enough for me to get a good night’s rest before he wakes up?”

Ford looked uncertain, now, troubled by Dipper’s insistence that Bill be kept around and the sudden shift in topic. “I believe so,” he said. “Now, Dipper, are you absolutely -”

“Man, he’s heavy,” Dipper interjected as he began to stumble towards the stairs, Bill progressively going more limp with each step. “Better get him upstairs so I can sleep. ‘Night Grunkle Ford!”

“...Good night,” Ford replied, scratching his head as he watched Dipper drag his mortal enemy back up to the shack.

* * *

 

“Dipper, you’re really worrying me.”

Dipper looked up from the sleeping bag he was rolling out on the floor next to his bed. Mabel stood nearby, arms crossed, expression uncomfortable. 

“I’m fine, Mabel,” Dipper assured with a smile. “I know I wasn’t doing so hot earlier, but -”

“You’re treating him like a  _ person. _ ”

Dipper’s smile fell. 

“Look at him,” Mabel went on as she gestured to Dipper’s bed, where Bill was passed out cold and snoring almost as loud as Waddles was across the room. “You put him on your  _ bed.  _ Why not just toss him on the floor and be done with it?”

“He  _ is _ going on the floor,” Dipper countered. “I just need to get this sleeping bag unrolled.”

Mabel tilted her head to the side and grimaced. “Dipper,  _ why does he need a sleeping bag?” _

Dipper stared up at his sister, expression blank.

He’d grabbed everything out of the linen closet as he passed it, not really thinking as he did, just sure that he was preparing for the rest of the night. It seemed perfectly reasonable to grab one of the sleeping bags there, something to tuck Bill away in while he slept.

But why  _ did  _ Bill need a sleeping bag?

Why wasn’t he just throwing Bill onto the floorboards and letting him sleep like  _ that?  _ Ford’s serum would supposedly last eight hours, maybe twelve, regardless of how poor Bill’s sleeping conditions were. So why make…

“...Concessions,” he muttered as he began to realize what was going on in his own head.

“What?”

Dipper unrolled the sleeping bag the rest of the way, unzipped it, and pushed himself back up to his feet. “I’m just making concessions,” he said as he looked over at Mabel. “Like he did for me. That’s all.” 

“You’re conceding  _ sleeping arrangements  _ because he put himself in some ugly body that wouldn’t scare you?” Mabel shifted her weight from foot to foot, then stepped back and sat down on her bed with a huff. Waddles snorted in surprise. “Dipper… Everything he does is to  _ get  _ something from you. What are you getting from  _ him? _ ”

With a sigh, Dipper turned back to his own bed and reached down to slip his arms under Bill’s legs and shoulders. Though taller than he was, Bill hadn’t given himself much bulk and was easy enough to lift for a few moments at a time. Dipper set him down in the open sleeping bag, rolled his shoulders to ease the tension from lifting the man of his nightmares, then reached for Bill’s dress shoes to take them off.

“Dipper, answer me.”

He knew he had to. He knew it was well past time to tell Mabel more than she knew, if not everything. His fingers ghosted over Bill’s shoes, and then he rested his palm against one as he rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand. 

“Mabel,” he said, his voice soft, “I’m a better person than he is. I don’t have to treat him like garbage because that’s how he treats me.”

“Bull,” Mabel replied. “He deserves nothing  _ but  _ garbage. He’s not even a person, Dipper, you don’t have to be better than him.”

Dipper pulled Bill’s shoes off (somehow the demon had thought to give himself black socks underneath), set them by the bed, then zipped up the sleeping bag. After a moment’s consideration, he also grabbed Bill’s still-floating top hat, which came away easily. He looked it over for a moment before setting it on his nightstand. 

Bill let out a loud snore, grunted, then rolled onto his side and burrowed into the sleeping bag. Dipper wondered how long it had been since the demon had needed to sleep, or even been able to. Had he ever?

“Dipper, this is freaking me out.”

Dipper took a deep breath, then pushed himself off of the floor and sat down on the edge of his bed, facing Mabel. 

“Mabel, you have to promise me you won’t tell Ford any of this,” he said, his expression gravely serious. 

Mabel’s eyes widened, and she dropped her arms to her sides, hands gripping the edge of her mattress. “Of course,” she said with no hesitation. “You never hide anything from him... What’s up?”

“Bill and I made a deal.”

Before Mabel could properly react, Dipper held his hands up and gestured for her to keep calm. “It’s not binding,” he said, and she lowered the hand that had flown to her mouth after his reveal. “He’s not powerful enough right now to do that. But it was an agreement, and unless he screws me over, I intend to keep it.”

Mabel narrowed her eyes. “Okay… what is it?”

Dipper glanced down at Bill, then back up at his sister. “He’s going to tutor me in magic, and he’s going to be on his best behavior,” he said. “In return… I’m going to keep Grunkle Ford from destroying him.”

“Dipper!” Mabel exclaimed, and Dipper gestured for her to keep it down. “Why on earth would you agree to that?!”

“Mabel, shh!” Dipper hissed. “I agreed because he doesn’t deserve to be obliterated, okay? He’s not what we think he is!”

A tense silence overtook the conversation, interspersed by the loud snores of both Waddles and Bill. The twins stared at each other, both stunned by what Dipper had just said.

Thinking it in the back of his head, that was one thing. Saying it out loud? He made himself sound  _ crazy.  _

“Oh my god,” Mabel said after a few moments. “Dipper, he’s playing you like a fiddle.”

“Look, he’s still evil, and awful, and I’m gonna try to get him trapped back in the Mindscape,” Dipper replied in a hurry. “But hear me out, Mabel. Okay? I told you about the honesty thing. I asked him questions. He’s… He’s not some unfeeling, all-powerful being, Mabel. I mean, he kind of  _ is,  _ but a long time ago he was just an angry guy who could make fire. And I think that guy, that regular  _ guy,  _ is still in there somewhere. And I don’t wanna destroy that.”

Mabel shook her head. “Dipper, he tried to  _ kill _ us,” she reminded him. “He tried to destroy everything, just because he  _ could.  _ You’re telling me you’ll let him live, and maybe do that again, because he wasn’t  _ always _ a monster?”

“Mabel, I have him under control,” Dipper insisted. “This binding thing, it’s a lucky break, okay? He’s powerless. He’s just a  _ guy  _ again. Maybe this is what it takes to  _ get  _ him.”

“ _ Get  _ him?” Mabel repeated. “Are you serious? Dipper, there’s nothing to get! He’s insane! What if he gets a knife and just goes at you one of these days? What if he decides it’d be a funny prank to trip one of us down the stairs? My god, if he touches  _ Waddles _ -”

“I’m not letting him out of my sight,” Dipper said. “Mabel, you’ve got to trust me.”

Mabel sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I do trust you,” she said. “I trust that you honestly  _ think _ you can do this. I trust that there is  _ no  _ voice of reason in your head.”

“Come on, Mabel, that’s not fair.”

Mabel shook her head and pushed herself up off of the bed. “Look, Dipper, I know your heart is in the right place,” she said. “And I’m your sister. I’ll be here for you. But I think you’re making a mistake.” She walked over to the closet to grab her night clothes, then headed for the door. “I’m gonna get changed. Grunkle Ford better be right about that stuff he gave Bill… I don’t want him  _ awake  _ while I’m sleeping.”

Dipper watched her go, then groaned and put his head in his hands as the door shut behind her. 

What on earth was he  _ doing? _

* * *

 

The black halls of the Fearamid stretched on for an eternity.

Mabel wasn’t beside him; Dipper ran alone, his heavy breathing the only thing he could hear echoing off the walls. He knew what was coming. He knew he was already in danger.

He may as well already be dead. 

“ _ Pine Tree! _ ” roared a demonic voice behind him. Now he could hear the thumping of hands on brick, the gnashing of razor-sharp teeth. Dipper didn’t dare look back. 

“ _ Pine Tree! _ ” it roared again, and he could swear he felt its breath on his back, hot as hellfire. His legs felt weak. He couldn’t keep running. 

“Pine Tree!”

A different voice. Higher. Kinder.

In a flash he was swept into a hidden alcove in the walls, and the beast kept tunneling forward, passing by with its tongue lashing and hands covering every wall. One almost touched him. Dipper had to hold in a scream.

“It’s okay, Pine Tree,” said humanoid Bill as Dipper turned to face him. “This is my Fearamid too. I know secrets he can’t see.”

“You’re the same,” Dipper said, his voice a distant call through the fog. “You’re him.”

“I’m not what you think I am,” said Bill with a smile. “I’m a regular guy.”

His sharp teeth had been blunted. His pupils were more round.

Dipper felt at ease.

* * *

 

“Pine Tree!”

Dipper’s eyes snapped open, and he was immediately met by Bill’s angled face, slit pupils boring down into him. 

“ _ Bill!”  _ he all but screamed, scrambling to sit up as Bill sat back on the end of the bed. “Why are you on my bed?!”

“You weren’t waking up,” Bill said, brow furrowed. “And I realized you were probably having nightmares, which is going to make everything a lot harder, so I thought…”

“You could have woken me up from  _ next  _ to my bed!” 

Bill huffed and rolled his eyes. “I thought you were more comfortable with this form, what’s the problem?”

“You can’t just get in my personal space, Bill!” Dipper kicked in Bill’s direction, and Bill groaned and climbed off of the bed. “I don’t like  _ anyone _ doing that!”

As Bill brushed his hands along his vest like an annoyed cat turning to groom itself, Dipper reached up to run his fingers through his hair. His hat stopped him, reminding him that it was even there in the first place. It seemed to have worked - or was Bill just being compliant?

“How long have you been awake?” Dipper asked as he pushed the hat up on his head. 

Bill glanced back at him. “Only about half an hour,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I figured you’d wake up soon enough, so I waited.  _ Patiently.  _ Like a good boy.”

Leave it to Bill to make it sound like this wasn’t  _ his  _ idea. 

“And before you ask,” Bill continued, “your  _ hat  _ seems to be working as intended. Impressive, considering that Sixer only knew you had to focus on  _ me _ and not on what on what I can  _ do.  _ Guess he hasn’t lost his mind to senility yet.”

Dipper frowned.

“And apparently, Shooting Star trusts us to be alone together now. That or she didn’t want to be here when I woke up.” Bill gestured to Mabel’s empty bed. “I suppose no one heard you yell, or they’d have burst in and tackled me to the floor by now.”

He seemed sour, Dipper thought. Moreso than usual.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the floor,” Dipper quipped as he threw his blanket off and moved to the edge of his bed. 

Bill scoffed. “Yeah. You go countless millennia without sleeping and tell me how  _ you  _ like it when you’re forced to do it again.” He shuddered and folded his arms. “It was like being  _ dead _ again. Opening my eye to the world with the knowledge that I was  _ gone  _ for a period of time.”

“You’re a dream demon who doesn’t dream?”

Bill stuck his tongue out through his teeth. “I was  _ drugged,  _ Pine Tree,” he said. “Even if I can dream - and frankly, I have no idea  _ if _ I can - I don’t think I was  _ able  _ to last night.” He looked away, clearly miffed, and pretended to be interested in the window.

Dipper watched Bill for a moment, then shook his head and began to stand up. Another question was on his tongue, one about what they would be doing next, when Bill spoke again.

“You carried me up here,” he said, voice flat and eyes still on the window. 

Dipper arched an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah. I did. Had to keep up with the story that you needed to stay close to me. And Grunkle Ford kinda stabbed you out of nowhere...”

Bill looked at him, then, expression oddly unreadable. 

“You gave me a place to sleep,” he said, watching Dipper’s face intently. “You took off my shoes. My hat.  _ Tucked me in. _ ” 

They stared at each other for a moment. Dipper could feel his ears getting hot even as he maintained a straight face, a thousand thoughts tearing through his mind as Bill held his gaze. 

He had felt confident in his decisions when defending them to Mabel. They made sense when he said them. Now, though, faced with Bill’s strange tone and blank face, Dipper didn’t feel so sure of himself. 

“...Concessions,” he muttered.

Bill blinked.

“You made concessions for me,” Dipper said in a rush, every atom in his body urging him to break eye-contact and stare at something else.  _ Anything  _ else. “You… made that form. And told me stuff. Didn’t give me nightmares. Stopped them, even. I think.”

Bill’s expression shifted, ever-so-slightly. Dipper finally broke eye-contact as he continued on, looking instead over at Bill’s hat on the nightstand and the pair of handcuffs next to it.

“And, you know, I’m not like you,” he said. “I’m a good person. I-I didn’t have to throw you in a heap on the floor just because that’s what you’d do to  _ me _ , if, if our roles were swapped.”

He was starting to stammer and fidget with his hands. He didn’t  _ sound  _ confident. Bill was sure to take notice, to say something, make Dipper feel more insecure. Why was this so  _ hard?  _ Why did Bill have to question him with that monotone voice and that stone wall of an expression?

Dipper looked back over at Bill, trying to make eye-contact again to prove he wasn’t afraid. Bill was still staring, still blank, unreadable -

And then he  _ smiled.  _

“Pine Tree, you underestimate me,” he cooed as his whole body visibly relaxed. “If it were me, I woulda shared the bed with you! The look on your face would have been  _ priceless! _ ”

Dipper’s heart rate calmed somewhat as Bill cackled. Whatever ominous fate he had been dreading wasn’t coming to pass. Thinking on it, he wasn’t even sure what worried him so much; Bill had creeped him out a bit with the blank stare, sure, but what could he  _ do? _

_ He could judge me,  _ Dipper thought in the back of his mind.

Why on earth was  _ that _ something to worry about?

“In any case,” said Bill as he wiped one of his eyes, “I’m glad to know I can count on you to take care of this meat sack, kid. I guess we really are partners!”

“For now,” replied Dipper as he dropped his hands to his sides. “Until I can get you back into the Mindscape. Or until you try to screw me over, I guess.”

“That’s an  _ if _ , kid, not a  _ when. _ ” Bill gave Dipper a reprimanding look, then reached over to the nightstand and picked up his hat. “Honestly, you should have more faith in me,” he said as he placed his hat above his head. It floated, just as before. “When have I let you down since we made our deal?”

Dipper rolled his eyes and sat back down on the edge of his bed. “When you went berserk and threatened to kill everyone I cared about, for starters. Remember that?”

“Oh, right.” Bill put a finger to his chin in thought, then began to pace beside his sleeping bag. He hadn’t put his shoes back on yet, Dipper realized. 

“Well, I admitted I was in the wrong about that,” Bill said as he placed his hands behind his back. “I mean, geez, I went straight for the throat with that one! Totally out of line on my part.” He stopped pacing and turned to face Dipper. “But besides  _ that,  _ when have I ever let you down?”

“Threatening me with nightmares when I didn’t do what you want was pretty crappy,” said Dipper as he sat back and crossed his arms. “Though I guess that wasn’t you letting me down, or anything - just you being an ass.”

“Exactly!” said Bill with a grin. “See? You should have more faith in me. I’m an ass, but I keep my word!”

Dipper sighed and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. “Guess you do, Bill. So what next?”

“Whaddaya mean, what next? We train, of course.” Bill stepped over the sleeping bag and sat down on the bed next to Dipper, causing him to jump a little in surprise. “I’ve only got the summer with you, right kid? Unless you think your parents want a demon living in the house.” 

“Oh, god, don’t even make me  _ think _ about that,” Dipper groaned. 

“Thought so,” said Bill as he bent over and grabbed his shoes. “So we need to train, train, train - and figure out a plausible explanation for why you’d need to leave me here after summer is over when we’re ‘tied together’, as you made Sixer believe. And convince Sixer that you need me alive…” 

Dipper watched Bill pull his shoes back on, then looked down at his legs. Convincing Ford that they needed Bill alive… that would be tough. And then there was the matter of the training. What goal could they even set for that? Sure, he wanted to get Bill back into the Mindscape, but that could take ages. What could they focus on trying to do before the summer ended?

A thought occurred to him, then. A very important thought. A thought that had the potential to change everything, not just between him and Bill, but in the very fate of Gravity Falls.

“Can you help me fix the barrier?”

Bill froze.

“...I know it wasn’t what you planned to do,” Dipper said with some reluctance, “but if you help me do that… Maybe it would prove to Grunkle Ford that we need to keep you around. And, hey, if you miraculously get me on your side, we can just tear a new hole, right?”

With a deliberate slowness, Bill sat up, head turning towards Dipper but eyes looking off to the side. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “It would require tremendous amounts of power… I could do it myself, of course, but you’d have to trust me enough to unbind me…” He put a hand to his face and hummed. 

“If I’m cosmically important,  _ I _ could potentially have enough power, right?” Dipper asked. 

“Potentially,” Bill agreed with a small nod. Then he looked into Dipper’s eyes and smiled wide. “Tell you what, kid: I think it’s a great idea! Let’s make that our goal for the summer!”

Dipper stared at Bill’s excited expression in surprise. He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t think it a possible option, but the last thing he expected was for Bill to be so… enthusiastic.

“...You sure?” he asked after a moment, trying to judge Bill’s emotions from his face alone. It wasn’t getting him anywhere.

“Positive, kid!” Bill said, baring his fangs in a toothy grin. “I never woulda thought of it myself, but it’s a perfect goal! Way to go!”

“... _ Really? _ ”

With a laugh, Bill jumped to his feet and faced Dipper, hands on his narrow waist. “Really!” he said. “You’re right, if I getcha on my side, we can just tear a new barrier in the fabric of space! And it’ll be a perfect test of what you can do. I mean, closing a dimensional rift? That’s heavy stuff! But you’ve got potential - I bet I can have you doing it in just a few weeks!”

“That seems a little optimistic,” Dipper said as Bill began to pace the middle of the room again, shoes clacking on the wood floor. “I mean, I’m only just getting the hang of the… force… blast… thing. I can’t even float yet.”

“But you can  _ bind, _ ” Bill reminded him. “That was entirely unexpected and completely a result of you just  _ thinking really hard.”  _ He tapped a finger against his temple. “If that’s all it takes, kid, you’re gonna go far.” He resumed his pacing, clasping his hands at the small of his back and watching the floor intently as he walked. 

Dipper cocked his head to the side. “Something else on your mind, Bill?”

Bill stopped his pacing and turned on his heel to face Dipper. “Lots!” he said. “All the time! My Mindscape must be some kind of chaotic hell! But none of that’s actually relevant right now.” He tapped one foot on the ground, then seemed to notice he was doing it and stopped. 

“Should we go train?” Dipper offered.

“Yes! Yes, let’s go do that.” Bill approached the bed and held out a hand. “The sooner we get started, the better,” he said. “I wonder what it’ll be like doing this in the real world…”

Dipper looked at the hand, then began to stand up on his own.

“Pine Tree.”

Dipper sat back down.

“You gotta work with me, kid,” Bill said as he splayed his fingers. “Can ya at least  _ act _ like a team player?”

With an uncomfortable sigh, Dipper looked at Bill’s hand again. “Why does being a team player involve  _ touching _ you?” he asked. “Besides, taking your hand… That’s like, super symbolic or something. And not in a way I agree with. I already shook it yesterday, anyway. Remember?”

“I want to  _ help _ you,” Bill insisted. “In this case, with standing up. In other cases… We’re partners now, right? You gotta trust me, Pine Tree.”

“Not on your life.”

Bill’s eye twitched.

“Fine,” he sighed. “But at least let me  _ help _ you. Can I do that? Can I help you?”

Dipper knew he was asking about broader things than just standing up, but he wasn’t sure if it was only limited to learning his own abilities or not. What else would Bill want to “help” with? Would his help  _ ever  _ be wanted outside of magic tutoring? And more to the current situation, did Dipper  _ really _ want to be in more physical contact with Bill that he needed to be? He looked up into the demon’s face and found no answers, only a slightly uncomfortable expression and avoidant eyes.

“...Consider it repayment,” Bill added after a tense moment. “For, uh, takin’ care of me. Making concessions or whatever.”

So that had made an impression, then; Dipper was honestly taken aback for a moment. Bill had seemed to imply he didn’t really care just a few moments ago. That was just how Bill was, though, right? The surprising part of it was that he would actually admit, even in just a small way, that the act had affected him personally. He was no longer under the effects of the honesty deal, yet he chose to share how he felt (assuming he was, in fact, behind honest - but Dipper’s gut said he was). 

And somehow… that felt like enough.

He grasped Bill’s hand in his own, felt the warmth of the other’s palm through the black glove he wore. 

“Atta boy!” Bill cheered as he yanked Dipper to his feet. The momentum caused Dipper to thump into Bill’s chest, and they both stumbled briefly before Dipper tore himself away and brushed off his clothes, as if Bill had somehow contaminated them. Bill looked no worse for wear. 

“See, count on me and I’ll be there to pick you up, kid,” Bill said with another grin. 

“Yeah,” Dipper replied, a little shaky. “Yeah, uh, I guess so.” Not a pleasant experience, in his opinion, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and at least it made Bill happy. A happy Bill was much easier to work with. “Let’s, uh, let’s start training, huh?”

“A capital idea, my little sapling,” said Bill. “The backyard should do nicely. On we go!” He seemed to reach for something at his side, then looked down in mild surprise when it wasn’t there. Dipper didn’t really notice; he was too hung up on “little sapling”.

“Don’t you have  _ enough  _ nicknames for me?” he asked as he turned away and grabbed his jeans off of the floor. “Why not  _ Dipper? _ You do know that’s a nickname too, right?”

Bill let out a small chuckle. “Oh, so we’re on  _ really _ friendly terms, then?” he shot back. “You want me calling you what everyone else calls you? Your special little name? I mean, at that point, I could just call you Ma-”

“ _ Zip it, _ ” Dipper hissed as he yanked his pants up to his waist, shooting a glare back at Bill. “Keep that to yourself, would you? I have a very delicate thing going on.” 

“So, what, even Red doesn’t know? The love of your life, girl of your dreams? Has no idea what your real name is?”

Dipper’s face went red. 

“Dipper  _ is _ my real name,” he grumbled as he finished buttoning his jeans and pulled his shirt back out over them. “It’s the one I prefer, alright? Now drop it.  _ William.” _

Bill put on a mock face of displeasure and clutched his chest. “You  _ wound _ me, Pine Tree,” he said, barely able to keep a straight face. There was something in his eyes, though, something serious - but Dipper didn’t catch it.

“Let’s go,” said Dipper, and together they both headed for the bedroom door, Dipper exiting before Bill. The fact that he was allowing the demon to be behind him at all said a lot about how much trust actually had formed between them, but of course, Dipper wasn’t even thinking about it. If he were he would have shoved Bill in front.

Things were definitely changing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW I AM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
> 
> i hit some major writer's block and just couldn't get through the end of this chapter :') but now here it is, in all its glory! i hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> what do you think will happen next? any ideas on how training will go? how will the family take all of this? or the townsfolk? let me know what you think in the comments!


	12. Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot to think about, and a lot to reconsider.

Halfway down the stairs, Dipper became aware of the fact that his family was conversing in the living room. He stopped his descent, holding out an arm to stop Bill as well. Naturally the demon made it a priority to step directly into said arm and stay there, but Dipper was more focused on the conversation he could hear happening just a few feet away. Good thing for Ford’s subliminal thought hat keeping _some_ part of his brain on Bill.

“I don’t know, okay?” Mabel sputtered. “I wanted to eat breakfast, and I didn’t want to be there if he… you know, woke up.”

Ford spoke next, urgent and serious. “We absolutely _cannot_ leave Dipper and Bill alone! If the serum wears off before Dipper wakes up, there’s no telling what Bill might do… And I’m sure Dipper uncuffed him, yes? He’s essentially free to do as he pleases!”

“Nobody told me I was supposed to keep watch!”

Ford sighed. Dipper imagined he was probably grabbing Mabel’s shoulders. It was a gesture he did often. “I’m sorry, dear, I should have said something,” he said. “I’m just worried. Come on, let’s go check on Dipper. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“He better be,” came Stan’s gruff voice, further in the room. “Wasn’t that stuff of yours supposed to last the full night?”

“Well, yes,” said Ford, voice changing as he faced a different direction, “but Bill is entirely unpredictable. A full dose might not have been enough. Even in this un-powered form Dipper has forced him into, he may be resistant or able to overpower it.” Dipper could hear his footsteps as he began to pace the living room. “He is, after all, a demon of dreams; is putting him to sleep _enough?_ ”

“Dipper was fine when I woke up,” Mabel assured. “And Bill was still snoring.”

“The possibility exists that the snoring was just a ruse, however.”

“Grunkle Ford, with all due respect, I _think_ I know when someone is snoring for real.”

Dipper glanced back at Bill, who simply shrugged. Dipper shook his head and turned back towards the wall. Wary of Bill as he was, he was certain that the snoring had been real and Bill had genuinely woken up when he said he did. Maybe Dipper was trusting him too much. Yet if Bill had woken up earlier, wouldn’t he have _done_ something? Why just wait around for Dipper to wake up if he had ill intentions?

Then there was a voice, right at his ear: “They’re going to come up here soon. Shall we go meet them first, Pine Tree?”

Dipper jumped and backed up fully against the wall, eyes wide as he stared back at Bill, who was standing with his hands folded behind his back and a calm smile on his face.

“Don’t _do_ that!” Dipper hissed as he put a hand over his hammering heart. “Jesus, Bill! How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my personal space?!”

“Did you hear that?” asked Mabel down in the living room.

Dipper swore under his breath and attempted to make himself look less frazzled as Bill quietly chuckled and began down the stairs ahead of him.

“Why look, it’s my favorite family!” announced Bill as he strolled into the living room, holding his arms out wide in greeting.

“Bill!” exclaimed Ford, shocked and immediately angered by his presence. “Where is -”

“Ah, but… I think you’re missing someone,” Bill went on as he tapped his chin in thought. Dipper indulged him by then exiting the hallway, to which Bill replied by wheeling around and throwing his arms in the air. “ _There_ he is! The one and only _Pine Tree!_ ”

Dipper gave his family a small half-wave.

Ford approached, then stopped just short of pushing Bill aside and opted to stand about a foot away from him. “Dipper, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Grunkle Ford,” Dipper said as he looked from Ford to Mabel to Stan. All three were wavering degrees of worried and annoyed all rolled into one emotion. Mabel was the most worried; Stan was the most annoyed. Ford was… hard to read.

“You people act like I’m some sort of monster,” Bill chided as he turned back towards the family. “Like I’m the sort to just - just _hurt_ a person! For no good reason!” He clucked his tongue and folded his arms over his chest. “For _shame_.”

Ford looked ready to say something in response, but closed his mouth when Dipper held up a hand.

Almost immediately Bill broke into a fit of giggles.

“Axolotl, can you imagine?” he said, barely holding himself together as he put a hand to his forehead. “Me? Not wanting to - Oh man. That’s funny.” He made a show of wiping a tear from his eye, then stepped to the side and put his hands firmly on Dipper’s shoulders. “Ah, but in any case, I haven’t hurt a hair on this boy’s head.”

Dipper rolled his shoulders. “Bill. Personal space.”

“Get it? ‘Cause he’s wearing a hat!” Bill went on, moving one hand to rest on top of the hat. “I can’t touch his hair! Most of it, anyway.”

“ _Bill_.”

Finally Bill moved away again and clasped his hands at the small of his back. “See? I’m even cooperating. I’m a perfect inmate.”

“If you were an _inmate,_ things would be _very_ different,” Ford growled. “Luckily for you… Dipper seems to be of a forgiving nature.” He gave Dipper a pointed look, which Dipper pretended he didn’t see, eyes on Bill instead.

“Yeah, lucky for me alright,” Bill said as he rubbed his jaw. “Kid can really pack a punch.”

Dipper subconsciously put a hand over the bandages wrapped around his arm where Bill had bitten him.

“I, however,” continued Ford, “am _not._ And I’ve got my _eye_ on you, Cipher.”

“...Noted.” Bill feigned disinterest, but Dipper saw the way his chest rose and fell a bit more rapidly. There was a touch of fear in him.

The way Ford sighed and looked away, Dipper didn’t think he noticed.

“We’ve _all_ got our eyes on you, mister,” said Mabel, to which Stan agreed with a passionate “Yeah!”.

Bill smiled a wicked smile and narrowed his eyes, all his attention routed to Mabel. “Oh? Do you? That explains why you left me alone with your brother this morning, I’m _sure_.”

Mabel faltered as Dipper turned a hard look on Bill. Before she could defend herself, Dipper said, “ _Ignore_ him. He’s just trying to get under your skin. If I - If there was even the _option_ to not be around him until _I_ was ready, I would take it. I don’t think you did the wrong thing.”

Ford cut in before Mabel could respond. “We should do more research on this,” he said as he edged closer to Dipper, who felt panic rising in his chest as he anticipated the topic Ford was trying to broach. “We need to get you away from him. Then we can -”

“Actually we already made plans,” Dipper said in a rush, so fast that it all sounded like one jumbled word.

The room went silent.

Dipper could feel a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck as he looked at the stunned faces of his family, then briefly to the slightly interested face of Bill. All of this quick thinking was going to get him in hot water eventually; there were a million better ways to phrase what he’d just said. But he was going to have to roll with it now.

“Bill and I, uh…” Dipper swallowed hard and looked down at the floor. “We’re… we’re going to fix the barrier.”

Ford looked taken aback as Mabel looked to him for guidance, and Stan simply looked lost. There was another moment of silence, then Ford began to try and speak, stumbling over several words before finally saying, “ _How?_ ”

Dipper clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. He glanced at Bill again, trying to think of what to say, and Bill gave him a pitying look before speaking up in his stead.

“Kid’s got powers,” he said with a shrug. “You all know that. He’s got a better chance of closing that barrier than any device you can make would. In fact, with my training, he can close it _completely._ ”

“...Completely?” Dipper asked in a quiet mutter.

Bill sighed and gave Ford a flat look before turning to Dipper. “You didn’t think you could close the thing entirely on your own, did you? Pine Tree, the Nightmare Realm has been leaking into Gravity Falls for _centuries._ Whatever I did to weaken it, maybe you could reverse that. But… let’s see, how do I put this…” He tapped his chin. “Fixing what I did is like… fixing a tear in fabric. Stitching it back together. But before I tore a direct hole in it, it was worn and threadbare. You can’t stitch that back together. You have to…” He frowned, then looked over at Mabel. “Shooting Star?”

“Put a patch over it?” Mabel offered, seeming unsure but unable to ignore a question even tangentially related to her interests.

“Exactly!” Bill exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. “A patch! What we need to do is _reinforce_ the barrier. Put new material over the gap. And let me tell you, piecing together dimensional rift material isn’t something you can do without magic.”

“That’s impossible,” Ford said with a frown. “You told me -”

“I lied.”

Bill held up his hands as Ford advanced with a scowl. “Cool it, Sixer,” he said as he took a step back. “Them’s the breaks, alright? We both know I just used you to further my own goals.”

“And how am I supposed to trust that you’re not doing the same to my nephew?” Ford asked, eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms.

“Uh, _duh,_ poindexter,” Bill said as he tapped the brim of Dipper’s hat. “You’re _helping_ him contain me, remember? I can’t do diddly _squat_ as long as the kid keeps his mind on me in some capacity. Pardon my French.”

Dipper briefly made eye contact with Mabel past the bickering pair. She still looked worried, maybe even moreso now. He wondered what she could be thinking. How many times in the past several weeks could she have potentially done something if she had any idea what was going on? Dipper would never blame her for such a thing, but Mabel would surely be blaming herself for years to come. She was _never_ okay with her brother struggling on his own, and with a being he was so devastated by…

He offered her a small, reassuring smile, then looked over at Bill.

Maybe he would have to tell Mabel that despite everything, he was _managing._ And it wasn’t just because he had the upper hand now. There was more to it - namely, the concessions Bill had made. The humanoid form. Keeping the nightmares at bay. Explaining the workings of the universe for no reason other than to share what he knew. He was still _Bill Cipher,_ he was still terrifying and intimidating and the source of all Dipper’s trauma, but…

Dipper thought back to the clearing with Bill’s stone body, and the faun that had appeared there. The things it said about “the all-seeing eye” and something about rising with the trees. He had been panicking then; would be panic now, if he went back in time to that moment? He searched Bill’s strange, angular face as the demon snapped something at Ford.

No. No, he didn’t think things would be the same. Not after all they’d been through together.

Did Bill still freak him out? Absolutely. Did he want to be best friends? Not in a million years. But did Bill instill within him the same frantic terror as he had previously? No. Not anymore.

Dipper was more than managing - he was _adapting._ Learning to cope with the trauma in his own strange ways, trapped beside the one who had caused it all. And somehow he had done it all without Mabel’s help.

He would have to let her know that she really didn’t need to worry.

“- And the situation is different! I had you in the palm of my hand, Sixer! But Pine Tree? He’s got me on a freakin’ _chain!_ So don’t yell at me about how I’m manipulating him, because if anything, he’s manipulating _me!_ ”

Dipper rolled his eyes. So much for that touching train of thought.

“Absolutely preposterous!” Ford countered, jabbing a finger into Bill’s chest. “You’re still the criminal mastermind here!”

“I take offense to that,” said Stan from his place in front of the TV.

“I may be a mastermind, but I’ve got no say over anything right now,” Bill growled as he shoved Ford’s hand away. “I’m being _honest._ ” He glanced at Dipper. “Even though I _definitely_ don’t have to be.”

“Grunkle Ford, he’s right,” Dipper said with a resigned sigh as he took a step towards the two. “I’ve really got control in this situation. Bill’s trapped.” He angled himself in a way that encouraged Ford to step back and away from Bill.

Ford seemed conflicted. He looked between the two for several moments, then focused his attention on Dipper, lips drawn into a tight frown and brows furrowed. “Dipper, listen to me,” he said, urgent in tone. “He was essentially trapped when he manipulated me as well. He was stuck in the Nightmare Realm, and the Mindscape, with no way out. But he’s _out_ now. He’s at _full power._ He’s -”

“Under control,” Dipper interjected softly. “Grunkle Ford, I’ve _got this._ He can’t do anything. If he could, he would have just torn open the barrier completely by now and like, imprisoned us all. Or worse.”

Bill scoffed.

It was Mabel who spoke next, a hand nervously clutching the collar of her sweater. “But Dipper, what if he’s lying?” she asked. “What if he’s just playing with you until he gets what he wants?” She wanted to say more, that much was obvious, but she held back - perhaps because of present company.

Dipper hesitated, and he could feel Bill’s eyes searing into him. He bit his lip, then turned to the demon. “What _do_ you want?”

 _May as well make a big show of all this_ , Dipper thought.

Bill rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. “What do I _want?_ Geez, kid, it’s like you don’t even pay attention.” He looked at the assembled Pines and raised his lip in a sneer. “I want to use this dimension to host the new Nightmare Realm. And I wanna rule it.” The sneer faded, then, and let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “But that’s just getting harder and harder, isn’t it? Maybe I should just find a way back there and find a _different_ dimension to take over. This one is too much trouble.”

“And I can put him back there,” Dipper said as he turned to Ford, sure in his mind that Bill was lying about moving on but going with it anyway. “I know it’s, like, not _ideal_ to let him go after some other dimension, but… We can save this one. And he can teach me how.”

Ford shook his head. “Just like he taught me how to build a portal to the realm of weirdness, right? To further my own studies, and nothing more?” He reached out and grasped Dipper’s shoulders. “He _cannot_ be trusted, Dipper. Not in any way, shape, or form.”

Dipper pursed his lips, then rolled his shoulders out of Ford’s grasp. “Then trust _me,_ ” he said. “I won’t make the same mistakes you did. I’ve read the journal - Journal 3 - I read it backwards and forwards, Grunkle Ford. I _know_ what he’s like, through _your_ eyes. I… I can do this.”

“But is it really the wisest way to go about things? Dipper -”

“Grunkle Ford,” Dipper said, his voice low. “I can do this.”

Ford gave him a look that was hard to read, something in the realm of worry but mixed with feelings Dipper didn’t quite understand. He seemed about to speak again, but Dipper was tired, and he was afraid of revealing too much. He wanted this conversation to be over.

“Come on, Bill,” he said as he turned around and headed for the back door.

Bill gave Ford a smug look, tipped his hat to Mabel, and then trailed after Dipper before they could be stopped. The door shut hard behind him.

“Wow, talk about making a scene!” Bill said as he caught up. “And that whole ‘I won’t make the same mistakes you did’ bit? _Priceless_. You’re incredible, Pine Tree.”

“Of _course_ you enjoyed that.” Dipper sighed and slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he stood beside the steps leading up to the back porch. “I don’t actually like arguing with my family, you know.”

Bill shrugged. “Eh, who does? But you did a good job of it. Gotta say, I’d be nonexistent mincemeat without ya, kid.”

Dipper chose to not respond, casting a long shadow of silence over the two of them.

Side-by-side they gazed out into the Oregon wilderness, for once comfortable in their shared presence. It was odd to realize how peaceful everything felt. The longer this had gone on, the more Dipper felt at ease with Bill (as much as he was loathe to admit it). He had to wonder - had their weeks spent together in the Mindscape acted as some sort of twisted exposure therapy? Had all the time spent with Bill really desensitized him to his own fears?

The faintest hint of the dream of the previous night ghosted through Dipper’s mind. Something about monster Bill, like his usual nightmares, but then… _This_ Bill. And then everything was okay.

He glanced at the demon out of the corner of his eye and found Bill with a thoughtful look on his face. Sometimes it was still strange to see how expressive he was with humanoid features.

Bill spoke. “Y’know, I gotta say, this is a surprisingly nice change of pace.”

“How so?” Dipper asked, turning his body halfway towards Bill.

“The insides of people’s heads are always flat and gray,” he said, “and the Nightmare Realm was…chaos. So was this place when I came here last. And don’t get me wrong, I love chaos!” He chuckled, then glanced over at Dipper before returning his gaze to the skyline. “This, though… this… _serenity._ The sights, the sounds, the smells… It’s different.” He took a deep breath, then let it out in a content sigh. “A change of pace is always nice.”

Dipper wrinkled his nose. “Dude, you totally got to experience all of that when you _possessed me._ And you possessed Grunkle Ford a bunch of times too, right?”

Bill turned to him and cocked his head. “Pine Tree, when you’re inside a human host, you don’t have time to stop and smell the roses,” he said. “Or at least I didn’t. I had things to do! Now, though…” He looked away again, still smiling. “I’m just… me. Or some weird version of me, anyway. And I don’t have any strict deadlines; my schedule is entirely at your whims. So I actually sort of have a chance to… enjoy this.”

Dipper looked at Bill for a long moment, then snorted and began to walk further out into the backyard. He decided he was too tired to try and understand Bill’s sudden change in tone. “Getting sappy on me, Bill? The air is nice here, but I’ve never known it to change someone’s entire worldview.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that I’m still an all-seeing, all-powerful being of pure energy who is very, _very_ much hellbent on destruction!” Bill rushed up behind Dipper and attempted an intimidating look, but he didn’t seem to be taking himself seriously, because he looked seconds away from laughter. It was almost charming, in a way.

“Sure, Bill,” Dipper said with a half-smile. “Maybe your loss of powers is turning you into a huge wuss. That’d be nice.”

“Oh yeah, I’m _sure._ Because a huge wuss would totally be able to help you fix the barrier.” Bill took a few steps forward and turned around to face Dipper, walking backwards as Dipper casually kept advancing. “Admit it, kid, you need me just the way I am. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re growing to _like_ who I am.”

Dipper stopped walking.

“I hate you,” he said, brow furrowed as he looked at the demon standing in front of him. Why would Bill even _suggest_ something so insane? “I still freak out if you get too close, I had a nightmare _just_ last night about you, your voice makes me want to shove ice picks in my ears…” His heart was hammering in his ribcage, his gut twisting itself in knots. “What makes you think I’m starting to _like_ you?”

Bill smirked. “How defensive you’re being right now speaks _volumes,_ Pine Tree.”

So he was making concessions. Fine. So he was treating Bill sort of like a person, _okay._ But liking Bill? In _any_ capacity? Enjoying his presence? Wanting to be around him? Feeling like they were… _friends?_

No. Absolutely not.

Bill was an abusive shitbag who wanted to destroy the universe. He had tried to kill Dipper and his family, would definitely do so properly if given the chance, hadn’t changed in _any_ way - at least, not in any _meaningful_ way -

God, who was he even trying to convince?

“...Maybe I’m just getting _accustomed_ to you,” Dipper said after a few long moments, his gaze cast down to the grass and fists clenched at his sides. “That doesn’t mean I _like_ you, Bill. After everything you did…”

After everything he did, wouldn’t liking him mean _forgiving_ him? Wouldn’t that invalidate all of Dipper’s trauma? How could he claim to be legitimately messed up from Bill’s actions if he so easily got over them? The idea of “twisted exposure therapy” suddenly felt ridiculous. There was no way he could feel better after such a short time. Something was wrong. _He_ was wrong.

Dipper’s chest felt tight.

“Geez, kid, relax,” Bill said, putting his hands up as if in defense. “You wanna keep hating me, go right on ahead. I just thought we were becoming, y’know, _friends.”_ He offered Dipper a sharp grin as he lowered his hands. “Is it still just forced allies, then?”

He was relenting. Letting Dipper decide what their relationship was on his own instead of pushing for the idea that they might be getting on better than they were supposed to.

 _What the hell is going on here?_ Dipper thought in a mild panic.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Forced allies. Should we… I think we should train.” He wanted this unexpected and unwanted conversation to be over. Training seemed like a better use of his time, and would distract him from the thoughts now swirling in a vicious tornado in his mind. He would much rather be trying to float than trying to justify his own feelings to himself.

Bill clicked his tongue. “Dunno about that, Pine Tree,” he said as he looked back at the forest. “You’re in no state to do something like that. Why not a walk in the woods instead?”

Dipper gave Bill a hard stare, then shook his head, arms visibly shaking. “A walk in the woods?” he repeated. “I - you don’t care about how I feel. You’re trying to get something out of me.” He took a step back, wary, panicking. “What do you _want_?”

“ _Kid,”_ Bill stressed, hands up again. “ _Chill_. I’m just trying to get you in a better headspace. If you’re an anxious wreck, I can’t work with you - or you might end up, like, blowing up the Shack or something.” He snorted. “Amusing as that would be…”

Bill did want something, but it wasn’t manipulation; it was just practicality. Bill wanted Dipper calm for their training. That… made sense. Dipper’s shoulders fell as he let out a deep breath, trying to choke down his anxiety and quell his violent tremors. Of all the times to have a panic attack...

“...Guess the family has me on edge,” he said, taking slow, deep breaths to try and come back down. “The argument, I mean.”

Bill gave him a vaguely interested look, and Dipper scowled back at him before looking away. _What was that for?_ Didn’t Bill realize Dipper was freaked out enough as it was?

Ugh. He probably did. He was probably _trying_ to make it worse.

...Except he had specifically brought up going for a walk to calm Dipper down.

This was all so confusing.

After a few moments, Bill turned towards the forest and began to walk. “C’mon, Pine Tree,” he said, in a sing-song voice. “Let’s explore the wilderness of Gravity Falls!”

Dipper glanced back at the Shack. In the window he could see Mabel, staring out at him in clear distress. Would she alert Ford to the fact that he was vanishing into the trees with Bill Cipher? Or would she stay quiet?

Something dawned on him then, a sickening revelation: he had spent more time this summer with _Bill_ than with his own sister. All the forced secrecy, the training, the forays into the Dreamscape… What insane world was he in now where Mabel took second place to a _nightmare?_ Something had to change.

“Pine Tree?”

Dipper turned away from the Shack and looked at Bill, who had stopped down the path to peer back at him with wide, curious eyes.

“...Coming,” said Dipper. He cast one last glance to his sister, then began down the path as well.

“I appreciate the compliance,” said Bill as Dipper caught up to him. “You may be in control here, but I _am_ the mentor. You’ve gotta trust my judgement sometimes.”

Dipper frowned and adjusted his hat. “I don’t trust _anything_ about you,” he said, even though he knew somewhere deep down that he was lying. “You just happen to be right, for once. A walk will help me stop freaking out.” He rubbed one of his arms with the opposing hand and looked off to the side. “I mean… panic is no good for trying to use my powers. Unless I wanna end up in a tree again.”

“Or blow up the Shack,” Bill reminded him. “I mean, you could _potentially_ do something like that. That force blast of yours is pretty strong.”

“I doubt it’s _that_ strong,” Dipper said. “It seems to bounce off of solid surfaces, which is how I got into the tree in the first place. Remember? And the Shack is tougher than it looks.”

“I know.” Bill scowled and reached up to his forehead. “The damn thing ripped my eye out, I think I know how _tough_ it is.”

Dipper smiled, just a little. “Actually, that was the T. Rex. But the Shack itself _did_ stand up to you trying to beat it up.”

Bill returned both hands to the small of his back and gave Dipper an interested look. “That whole thing, by the way - weaponizing the Shack against me - whose idea was that?”

“Old - er, Fiddleford’s,” said Dipper, a bit sheepish that he’d almost referred to Ford’s best friend by his old, somewhat derogatory nickname.  “He’s actually really brilliant.”

“Oh, I know he is.” Bill cocked his head and hummed. “Never trusted me, of course - not that he really knew what was going on.”

“Yeah, Grunkle Ford wrote about that,” Dipper said, thinking back to the numerous pages about his “Muse”. “You said he caught you at a bad time or something, right? Was that when he got pulled through the portal?”

Bill nodded. “Yep. Guy came in when I was, uh… busy. Gained some knowledge he shouldn’t have. And when he stormed off, Sixer confronted me, and… Well. You know what happened.”

“You got cocky.”

“I got cocky,” Bill agreed with another nod. “Told Sixer what I was _really_ up to, and he shut everything down.” He smirked. “So Glasses basically stopped me thirty-some years ago, and then stopped me again four years ago. Indirectly, of course. Suppose he stops me again?”

Dipper looked over at Bill. “Stops you from what? Training me?”

Bill shrugged. “Well, yeah. If he and Sixer made up, Sixer’s probably gonna tell him what’s going on, right? Maybe he builds some mini-portal of some kind to send me back where I came from.”

“Grunkle Ford would never risk another portal,” said Dipper. “Not even a small one. Not after everything that happened.”

“Guess you know him better than I do.”

Dipper couldn’t tell if that was sarcasm or not.

They had walked quite a ways from the Shack and were coming up on a clearing that looked oddly familiar. Dipper narrowed his eyes at it, confused until he heard voices in the distance - and saw a large stump marking the opening into the clearing. More were spread out past it.

“Shit!” he hissed, surprising Bill. “We gotta go another way!”

“Why?” Bill asked, confused. “You afraid of stumps, too? Kid, I can only handle so much of this anxiety of yours.”

“No, dumbass,” Dipper snapped, in no mood for Bill’s nonsense. “This is one of the Corduroy's logging camps. I don’t need any of them seeing you!”

“Dipper?”

Too late.

He thought of shoving Bill into the nearby bushes, but knew that would be no use. Just as Wendy came to the head of the path, Dipper jumped up and snatched Bill’s floating hat, hiding it behind his back in a last-ditch attempt to somehow hide what was going on.

“ _Hey_ Wendy!” Dipper greeted, his voice strained. “About time we ran into each other!”

She was beautiful, as always. Tall and lean, face spattered with freckles, vibrant red hair cascading down her shoulders; she was a Goddess, a spirit of the forest, the coolest person Dipper knew -

“Who’s your friend?”

Dipper felt his heart drop into his gut.

Clearly a benevolent God - Ax, perhaps, - was smiling down on him that day, because rather than speak for himself, Bill turned to face Dipper, expression both expectant and annoyed. He looked strange without his hat. Strange and just a tiny bit different.

Just a bit…

“William,” Dipper blurted. “This… is… William.”

 _Smooth,_ Dipper thought, and he could imagine Bill’s voice back in his head, saying the same thing.

“Hey man, I’m Wendy,” Wendy greeted, holding her hand out for a shake. “You new here?”

Bill’s gaze slid off of Dipper and onto Wendy. He looked at her hand, then grinned and gave it a firm shake. “Kinda!” he said, and Dipper could swear he was making some effort to change the pitch of his voice.

“Woah, gnarly teeth,” Wendy said, sounding much less surprised than anyone else would be. “Cool eyes, too. You some sorta monster?”

“You could say that,” Bill replied.

“He’s… a demon,” Dipper admitted, doing his best to relax and keep himself from having a complete panic attack. “We, uh, we met in just the past few weeks,” he continued. “I helped him gain physical form.”

Wendy nodded and put her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “Cool,” she said. “He reminds me of the triangle man.”

Bill spoke quickly before Dipper had a chance to process that. “Oh, I was a big fan of his,” he said in earnest. “Before he died, of course. See, I’m from the weird place that started taking over this town, but I was trapped after his death.” He threw an arm around Dipper’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Then my friend here helped me get unstuck, and now he’s showing me around!”

Dipper grit his teeth and forced a smile, hating their close proximity but knowing it would look suspect if he yanked away. “Yep,” he said. “And, uh… where better to go first than one of your logging camps?”

Wendy lifted an eyebrow and chuckled. “A lot of places are better than this, man,” she said. “But I’m glad you came by. I’ve been meaning to talk to you more, dude. Things have just been crazy.”

“Tell me about it,” Dipper said with a shaky laugh. It didn’t seem like Bill was letting go of him any time soon. It was certainly in his nature to trap Dipper like this, get in his personal space when there was nothing he could do about it.

How much it still bothered him - the way it made his skin crawl - was, in a way, relieving. He wasn’t getting _too_ used to Bill.

“Hey, what’s with the hat?” Wendy asked, pointing to the offending item. “One of us has gotta change, dude.”

“Oh, uh…” Dipper swallowed. “My other hat - the one you gave me - it’s, uh, dirty. And I really don’t like not having a hat, so…”

Wendy adjusted her own cap, which was covered in dirt and scuffs. “Wow, taking care of your hygiene?” she said. “I’m impressed, man.”

Dipper’s face went red.

“Well, you have to look your best when you’re taking care of a nit-picky demon!” Bill said with another grin. “Isn’t that right, P-... pal?”

His commitment to the act was surprising, but greatly appreciated. Dipper hesitated, then took the leap into making himself look even friendlier and threw his free arm around Bill’s shoulders as well. It was a small gesture to say he was thankful (even if it made him want to tear off his skin).

Bill, to his credit, made no show of acknowledging the absurdity of Dipper willingly touching him.

“It’s good to see you in your element, man,” Wendy said with a smile. “Like, I dunno if you’ve ever really had a friend who was on your _level,_ y’know? But a demon - that seems kinda fitting.”

“...My level?” Dipper repeated, surprised.

“Yeah man,” said Wendy. “I mean, you got Stan Two, but he’s like, forever years old.”

“Well, technically, I’m _much_ older,” said Bill. “But time is meaningless to me anyway.”

Wendy nodded. “Yeah, like, so there’s not really a generational gap,” she said. “Just a wicked-smart dude who loves weird stuff, and a complete embodiment of weird stuff.” She paused. “Oh, uh, no offense.”

“None taken,” Bill assured.

 _A wicked-smart dude who loves weird stuff, and a complete embodiment of weird stuff_ . It repeated on a loop in Dipper’s mind as he struggled for some sort of answer. Wendy had _just_ run across them, and Dipper was _nowhere near_ calm, but somehow he appeared “in his element”. That was a lot to think about.

“Well, I gotta get back to work,” said Wendy as she jerked her thumb back towards the logging camp. “Dad’s givin’ a raise to whoever does the best this week. I’m totally gettin’ it.”

Dipper smiled. “It’s nice to see you in your element,” he said.

Wendy grinned back at him. “Yeah, dude! Thanks.” She reached forward to pull the bill of Dipper’s hat down over his face, then turned to leave, throwing a “See you later!” over her shoulder as she went.

Bill waved, then started walking backwards down the path, pulling Dipper with him until they were sufficiently out of sight.

“Well, that was eventful,” he said as he finally let go and pulled away. “I guess she would’ve recognized me if she didn’t trust you so much.” He held out a hand. “Hat, please.”

Dipper pulled his hand and the hat within out from behind his back and handed it over. As Bill frowned down at it, covered in sweat from Dipper’s hand, Dipper rubbed his arms and shoulders where he and Bill had been in contact.

“You need to work on this whole _sweating_ thing,” Bill grumbled as he put his hat back where it belonged. “Ugh. I wanted to calm you down, not rile you up even more. Maybe I need a map of this place.”

“No, I… I think I’m ready to train,” said Dipper with a sigh. “It’d be a nice distraction from everything else.” He rubbed the back of his neck, then let out a weak laugh. “Guess you’re my demon friend _William_ now. Maybe the townsfolk will believe it too.”

“Ooh, we should all go out to lunch!” Bill said excitedly. “You, me, and Shooting Star! I’d say Mackerel Head and Sixer too, but I don’t think they’d be a good idea.” He tapped his chin in thought. “You think Shooting Star would be willing to knit me a sweater? Might detract from the iconic look a little bit.”

“I can ask,” said Dipper, too emotionally exhausted to argue. “What do you want it to look like?”

Bill clapped his hands together. “Bright yellow! And black bowties all down the front! Oh, or just a giant eye! Or maybe the Illuminati symbol? That’s abstract enough to work, right?”

Dipper nodded absently, but all he could think of was what Wendy had said, over and over.

... _loves weird stuff…_

_...complete embodiment of weird stuff…_

The implications were going to drive him insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS DIDN'T TAKE THAT LONG!! HAHA YES I'M DOING GREAT
> 
> major props to my beta didsomeonesaymarblehornets on tumblr, for once there might actually not be that many typos. hurrah!
> 
> also, have any ideas for bill's sweater? lemme know so he can chat obnoxiously with mabel about sweater designs for the entirety of the next chapter. (i kid. but do give me ideas!)


	13. When the Clock Stops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can one relate to a trillion-years-old demon hellbent on the destruction of reality?

“I can’t do this.”

Dipper gave his sister a sympathetic look as she turned away, arms crossed, and looked out the window of their attic bedroom into the afternoon sky.

“I know you don’t want to treat him like a person,” Dipper said, referencing the demon standing off to the side with a sour look on his face. “But you don’t have to. He just -”

“No, it isn’t that,” Mabel said as she turned back around to face him. “I know that. I mean, I don’t make sweaters for _just_ people, you know. A horrifying, manipulative, eons-old demon from another dimension isn’t an issue.”

Bill sighed in irritation and put his hands on his waist. “Then what _is?_ ”

Mabel scowled. “The issue is _you_.”

“You just said I wasn’t an issue!” Bill snapped, and Dipper held an arm out to keep him from advancing towards Mabel. To her credit, she didn’t really look worried about Bill getting closer to her, but she didn’t have personal space issues. She also wasn’t particularly afraid of Bill. Dipper had to hand it to her, his sister had the mental fortitude of a warrior.

“No, I said that _a demon_ isn’t an issue,” Mabel retorted. “I don’t care _what_ you are. You could have turned into a kitten for all I care - you’re still Bill Cipher!”

Bill looked utterly perplexed at that, and it was almost enough to make Dipper laugh. He knew better than to do that in the middle of this confrontation, though; he was liable to be yelled at by _both_ of them.

He also knew it would have been a better idea to have not started this in the first place. Bill and Mabel were both very stubborn, and Dipper was more than aware of the fact that Mabel probably wouldn’t want to knit a sweater for the demon who had tried to kill her and everyone she cared about four years prior. Deep in his gut, though, he felt like this needed to happen - or something like it, at least. If Bill was going to be a permanent fixture of any sort, for any length of time, Mabel needed to go head-to-head with him.

 _Permanent fixture._ Just thinking that put all thoughts of laughter out of Dipper’s head.

“But I’m _not!”_ Bill all but yelled. “I mean, okay, I _am,_ but - Pine Tree had the same problem! That’s why I made this form! I don’t look anything like myself anymore!”

Mabel shook her head. “You’re still _you,_ ” she said firmly. “If having you in that body helps Dipper cope, that’s fine. But it doesn’t magically make you _not Bill Cipher._ ”

Dipper decided to step back in as Bill puzzled over what Mabel had just said. “Mabel, you have every right to not feel comfortable,” he said. “I totally understand. But we’re trying to make him look… less like himself. He needs a new wardrobe. And I’d rather trust that to you than letting him have the power he needs to just manifest something new.”

Mabel seemed to relax a little bit, her tightly-folded arms loosening somewhat. “Well…”

“And after this, we can just go department store shopping,” Dipper continued. “I just need you to… work with him to make a sweater, and then we can get some other things.”

 _Pacifica is going to have a field day dressing this guy,_ Dipper thought to himself. He hoped she would be okay with him bringing a new friend along on their next shopping trip…

Mabel sighed and offered Dipper a faint smile. “Grunkle Ford is gonna kill you, y’know,” she said. “I mean, having to tote him around is one thing, but willingly taking him out in public?”

Dipper smiled back. “Hey, can’t let a demonic load of baggage ruin my _entire_ summer,” he said.

“Hey!” Bill snapped.

Truth be told, there were a lot of reasons behind wanting to do this, things he had mulled over on the walk back home and brief practice session (which he had been too distracted to make much progress during). Part of it was agreeing to Bill’s idea of lunch, something that had yet to be discussed with Mabel but that actually seemed like an okay idea. Another part was a genuine desire to be able to go out and do things, have fun, _socialize_ \- all while maintaining the illusion that he needed Bill close by to keep up the binding. And there was even a third part, something small and hard to identify, that Dipper though might be the want to socialize Bill himself. How might things be different if Bill interacted with people on a personal level?

Dipper didn’t want to think about that one too much, though. At least not yet.

“I still think you’re crazy,” Mabel said as she walked over to her side of the room and knelt down by her bed. “And I’m _very_ worried. Like, a _lot._ But I’m not gonna let my bro get cooped up all summer because he lied to Grunkle Ford about needing to stay close to Bill.”

“How did you -”

“I _know_ you,” Mabel stressed as she pulled out a box of supplies from under the bed, not looking up. “I also think I _might_ have a better idea of how magic works than Grunkle Ford. He’s studied it, sure, but having a scientific understanding of it isn’t everything.”

Dipper snorted and crossed his arms. “Are you saying you know more about magic than Grunkle Ford does because you’ve been into fairy tales since we were three?”

“Precisely.” Mabel stood up, a fabric tape measure hanging from her hand.

There was a moment of hesitance, a brief reconsideration of what she was doing. Then she gathered up her confidence and strode towards Bill, who took a half-step back in surprise.

“Arms up,” Mabel said. “I need your measurements.”

Taken off guard, Bill did as he was told.

Dipper watched in amazement as Mabel wrapped the tape measure around the demon’s torso at its widest point, her fingers ghosting over the fabric of Bill’s vest. He wondered what it was like, being able to just go up to Bill Cipher and _touch_ him without feeling a strong desire for escape or death.

After a moment, Bill grinned. “Hey, so you’re gonna do it?” he asked excitedly. “I have a few ideas for designs -”

“I’m not doing anything that’s too… _you,_ ” Mabel said as she measured Bill’s waist. “Think of something else.”

Bill stuck his bottom lip out. “But it’s _for_ me,” he said. “Why can’t it be _like_ me?”

Mabel stood up straight and pulled the tape measure taut between her hands, her expression firm. “Because I don’t want to work on something covered in eyes, or teeth, or whatever else your personal _aesthetic_ is,” she replied. “If you really want me to make you something, come up with an idea that’s less…” She faltered, gaze darting to the side.

“...Less your true form,” Dipper finished for her. “More _this_ form. More _William._ Something that doesn’t scream ‘Hey, I’m Bill Cipher!’”

“Exactly!” said Mabel with a smile.

Bill didn’t look entirely convinced as Mabel began to measure one of his arms. He looked lost in thought, then returned his gaze to Mabel, distraught. “I don’t know what that _is,_ though,” he said. “I guess I see the point of not going with something obviously _me,_ but I’ve never been anything _but_ me!”

“Okay, well, what colors do you like?” Mabel asked as she stepped back again. “And don’t say yellow. I’m not doing yellow.”

Bill considered that for a moment, a hand on his chin. Then, “Blue?”

“Any blue?”

“I don’t know,” Bill grumbled. “Light blue, dark blue, just… blue. Like fire when it’s ridiculously hot.”

Mabel nodded sagely and headed back for her supply box. “Okay. I can work with that. Give me a day or two and I’ll have something for you.” She pulled out a small notepad from her box and began to scribble down Bill’s measurements, then wrote something next to them.

“A day or two?” Bill asked with a tilt of his head. “Is that normal?”

“She’s a fast knitter,” Dipper said. Then, turning to his sister and smiling, he said, “Thanks for this, Mabes. I really appreciate it. And I think Bill does, too, a little bit.”

Bill scoffed. “I can voice my appreciation when I see what it is,” he said. “Though if it’s not even going to be to my tastes…”

“I think you’ll like it,” said Mabel as she worked on a loose sketch in her notepad. “It won’t be terrifying or ominous, but you’ll appreciate the message, I think.”

Bill smirked at that, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning to the side. “So you see me as a multi-faceted being, huh?” he asked. “Someone who _isn’t_ just terrifying and ominous? I’m impressed. Most humans think I’m just a one-note villain.”

Dipper opened his mouth to argue, then shut it just as fast. Did he really want to tell Bill what he saw in him? Did he actually want to admit to his literal nightmare of a charge that he saw him as anything more than a horrifying monstrosity? No, he thought. He most certainly did _not._

Even so, Mabel gave him a pointed look. She knew what he was thinking. Thankfully Bill didn’t seem to notice, too busy basking in his apparent character depth.

“You’re a lot of things,” Mabel said after a moment as she closed her notepad. “One-note isn’t one of them. Two, maybe three-note is more like it. Almost enough for a really repetitive song.”

“Clever girl,” said Bill, trying to look amused even as annoyance laced his voice. Dipper had to stifle a laugh behind his hand.

Mabel took a bow. “Thank you, I’ll be here all week,” she said. “Or at least for the next few hours while I get started on this thing.” She set her notepad down, then advanced on Dipper and Bill, waving them towards the door. “Now shoo! I have work to do.”

“But this is my room too!” Dipper objected, surprised by her sudden need for space.

“You’re the one who wants a sweater for your new best friend,” Mabel replied as she pushed them both out into the hallway. “This is going to be a surprise! Now go practice your magic or something.”

“I already did that today,” Dipper said, briefly glancing at Bill, who only shrugged.

“Then figure something out,” said Mabel, and with that she shut the door.

Dipper stared at it for a moment, as if willing it to open up again, then let out a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead. One moment she was afraid of how Dipper was treating Bill, and the next, she was forcing them to be alone together. What was going on in her head?

“She called it a surprise,” Bill said, snapping Dipper out of his thoughts. “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, considering our current relationship with one another.”

Dipper shrugged and turned away from the door. “I dunno, man, she’s hard to read,” he said. “It might be something really silly. Can you work with that?”

Bill scoffed. “Pine Tree, please. Silliness is just a moderate form of chaos. Of _course_ I can work with it.”

That seemed reasonable, Dipper thought. Reasonable enough anyway.

“So what now?” Bill asked, a hand on his hip. “Personally, I say we practice more, but I have a feeling you’d rather not.”

“Dude, it’s been a hell of a day,” Dipper sighed as he scratched the side of his head, careful to not push his hat out of place. “I just want to relax.” He glanced back at the door, then to Bill. “I figured I could at least nap, but that seems out of the question.”

Bill smirked. “Maybe you could have, if you hadn’t brought up the sweater thing right away,” he said. “You seemed so _unsure_ when I proposed the idea. What made you decide it was the utmost important thing?”

“I had time to think,” Dipper said with a dismissive hand wave. “Look, I know another place we can go.”

“We?”

Dipper gave Bill a deadpan stare. “Yeah. _We._ I’m not about to leave you on your own just because I’m tired.”

An unpleasant look crossed Bill’s face. “You were so much more productive when I kept your nightmares at bay,” he said. “If you would let me use my powers, I could probably -”

“Don’t,” Dipper interrupted. “We’re not having that conversation. There’s no way in _hell_ I’m unbinding you, even a little bit.” He hesitated for a moment, then glanced up to the top of Bill’s head. “I mean… besides your weird, floaty hat.”

“Fine,” Bill said with a shrug. “Just thought I’d suggest it. Last I saw, your nightmares are pretty bad, kid.”

Dipper thought of the dream he’d had the night before - the one where _this_ Bill saved him from _nightmare_ Bill, or at least that's what he thought he remembered. He thanked every deity he could imagine that Bill couldn’t see inside his mind anymore. What a conversation _that_ would be.

“I’ll live,” Dipper said eventually as he put his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been dealing with nightmares for years now.” He looked down the hallway, towards the stairs. “Anyway, I don’t think anyone is out and about… Come on. I’ll show you where we can hang out.”

Bill raised his eyebrows. “Hang out, huh?” he murmured as Dipper began down the stairs. He shook his head before slowly following behind.

* * *

 

A light breeze had started up by the time the two made their way to the roof of the Shack.

Dipper did his best to relax into the lawn chair they kept up there, willing his tense muscles to unclench and give him some rest. Bill, meanwhile, sat on the very edge, long legs dangling over the side as he surveyed the ground below.

It was peaceful, yet Dipper couldn’t shake his anxiety. Everything felt like it was going a mile a minute, racing past before he could properly respond to it. Bill had been around for all of one full day and half of another, and already Dipper was working on integrating him into society and defending him to Ford. _Defending him!_ The thought alone made his muscles tense up even more. Ford was sure to have some words for him later...

And there was Bill, cool as a cucumber, swinging his legs over the edge of the roof. He had responded so _well_ when Wendy had appeared. He’d gone along with Dipper’s hurried idea without a hitch, and had even improved the situation by offering a plausible explanation for why he would resemble… well, _himself._ Dipper never would have thought of that. He was grateful, but all the same he was frustrated - how could Bill be so calm?

Of course, Bill had little to fear outside of Ford trying to kill him. The truth of the matter was that Dipper had a hard time understanding how _anyone_ could be calm about _anything._ He was a nervous wreck twenty-four-seven, and that was even before this whole mess.

He ran his hands down his face and sighed. God, this _mess._

“Pine Tree?”

Dipper looked over at Bill only to realize that the demon was staring at him. He jolted in surprise, then attempted once again to settle into his chair. “What?” he asked.

“You seemed a little out of it,” Bill replied. “Lot on your mind?”

“Pft. I hope that’s rhetorical.” Dipper rubbed his cheek, then rested his hand across the bandages on his other arm. “There’s kind of a lot to think about.”

Bill gave him an odd look, then turned his gaze back to the yard. “Guess so,” he said. “Y’know, it’s weird - I keep expecting to hear what you’re thinking. I’m sure that’ll pass, it didn’t even last that long, but I guess I got used to it.”

Dipper could almost hear an audible creak in his mind as the metaphorical door to Bill’s personal thoughts opened just the tiniest bit.

“Sounds like you have a lot to think about, too,” he said.

Bill scoffed and pulled his legs up to cross them. “Yeah, you can say that again,” he grunted. “Apparently I have a track record for things not going according to plan.” He swept one arm out, gesturing to the vast expanse of woods and the rebuilt water tower in the distance. “This was all supposed to be chaos! But here I am, at the end of an invisible leash, looking at a perfectly nice day.”

“You enjoyed how nice it was earlier.”

“It’s still an interesting change of pace,” said Bill, briefly glancing back at Dipper. “But I didn’t plan for this. I didn’t even think it was possible.”

Dipper scratched at his bandages. “Yeah, you’ve said that a few times.” He looked out across the treetops, then back over to Bill. “It’s not, like, unheard of though, is it?” he asked. “I mean, you said we’re in the same class of magic users. But you’re also some kind of reality-bender. I can’t do any of that.”

He expected Bill to reply “ _yet,”_ but instead he let out a heavy sigh and looked up at the sky. “Guess you’re right, kid,” he said. “Maybe you’re developing into some angelic fuckin’ thing the same way I developed into a demon. Wouldn’t _that_ be something.” Bill snorted and shook his head. “ _Child of the stars,_ or whatever.”

“What?” Dipper asked with a tilt of his head.

“It’s what Ax called you,” Bill explained. “I knew he meant you ‘cause he showed me _Ursa Minor_ when he said it.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “I’ve been wondering if that sister of yours has the potential for magic, but if she does, Ax sure didn’t feel like mentioning it. She’s kinda got that star motif, you know? Then again, _you_ have that birthmark.”

 _Child of the stars._ How bizarre a thing for an actual God to call him. What was it supposed to mean? And if that’s what he was, wouldn’t Mabel be the same?

“I would have expected Mabel to have magic before I did,” Dipper admitted with a nervous chuckle. “This is… it’s still a lot to get used to. I don’t think I’m ready to become anything _angelic._ ”

“Yeah, well, things don’t always go at the pace you want them to.” Bill steepled his fingers under his chin and stared hard at Gravity Falls, sprawling before the both of them.

Dipper leaned his head back and stared up at the sky, worry etched in his face. “I know,” he said. “Believe me… I know. Everything about this has been a, a _rollercoaster._ One minute Stan is possessed by you, the next you’re in _my_ head, and then I have _powers,_ and -”

“And then you’re asking your sister to knit me sweaters.”

Dipper looked back over to Bill and found himself being watched. He frowned and looked away.

“ _One_ sweater,” he protested. “Just _one._ And then…”

“Then we go out in public, get me dressed up nice, hang out like normal humans, become friends -”

Dipper sat up in his seat, fingers gripping the edges. “We already discussed this,” he snapped. “We’re nothing more than _forced allies,_ Bill. We will _never_ be friends.”

Bill scoffed and leaned back, hands on the roof as he swung his legs back out over the edge. “Sure, kid. But here’s the deal: we’re gonna be trapped together either until you get me back into the Nightmare Realm, or one of us dies. With the length of time either of those things might take, I think your sentimental self will give in and eventually _enjoy_ me. Like I said earlier, I think you’re already starting to.”

Dipper scowled, then leaned over and picked up an empty Pitt can. With a bit of precise aiming, he managed to chuck it right at Bill’s head, earning a yowl from the demon when it connected.

“Well, right now, you’re a pain in the ass,” Dipper said as Bill rubbed his head and glared back at him. “Maybe we’ll be friends after you’ve stopped doing that.”

They kept coming back to this topic of _friendship,_ and Dipper couldn’t tell if it was just Bill’s insistence or if he was somehow instigating it too. He was uncomfortable with the idea, but all the same… What if they really _were_ friends at some point? What if Bill respected him and they got along well? A lot would have to change for that, right? And if that much could change about Bill, then maybe...

“What on _earth_ are you doing up there?!”

“Oh no,” Dipper muttered as Bill waved down to the yard.

“Hi Fordsy!” he said with a toothy grin. “Just relaxing, how about you?”

“Where is Dipper?!” Ford yelled back, clearly enraged by Bill’s lax attitude.

“I’m here, I’m here!” Dipper called out as he stood up and rushed over to the edge of the roof. Down in the yard he could see Stan and Ford standing together, for what reason he couldn’t begin to guess. They must have heard Bill’s yell, though, and come running…

“I thought you were fixin’ that barrier,” Stan said, folding his arms over his chest. “Whaddaya doin’ up there?”

Bill laughed. “You expect this kid to be able to fix it _now?_ Please, Mackerel Head! He’s got _miles_ to go!”

“We did train today,” Dipper offered sheepishly. “We’re just… done now. And Mabel kicked us out of the room.”

Ford took a step forward and put his hands on his hips. “Why would she do that? Doesn’t she know you two shouldn’t be alone?”

Dipper bit his tongue.

“I said something _terribly_ offensive,” Bill supplied with a wicked grin. “She didn’t want to see me after that, did she, Pine Tree?”

He looked at Dipper expectantly.

After a moment to process what was happening, Dipper quickly continued the lie. “Oh… yeah. She didn’t wanna be around Bill and I _have_ to be, so… we stepped out for a bit. Thought up here was as good a place as any. No one else really comes up here anymore.”

Stan seemed pacified, but Ford’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Dipper’s stomach twisted itself in knots.

“Hey, let’s go relax a bit, huh?” Stan asked as he tapped the back of his hand on his brother’s arm. “I’m tired’a lookin’ around the woods. Dipper and the triangle man have it covered now, don’t they?”

“I sure hope they do,” said Ford, his eyes still on Bill. “Stay on your toes, Stanley.”

“Dipper has it handled!” Stan insisted as he headed for the door. “Don’t you trust him?”

Rather than answering, Ford stared a bit longer before slowly shaking his head and following after Stan.

“Harsh,” said Bill as the door shut below them.

Heaving a sigh, Dipper dropped down to the roof, dangling his legs over the edge about a foot away from Bill.

“This is such a disaster,” he muttered.

Rather than laugh in his face, Bill leaned closer and cocked his head towards Dipper. “Aw, lighten up, kid. Things’ll be better before ya know it!”

“I fail to see _how._ ”

“Then allow me to enlighten you.” Bill scooted closer, and Dipper thought of moving away, but at the very least Bill wasn't _touching_ him. Rather, he swept his arm out across the view of the woods and distant town.

“Soon, you won’t be trapped anymore,” he said. “You’ll be able to go anywhere, do anything!”

“Yeah, and you’ll be there every step of the way,” Dipper retorted. “The only improvement is that you’re not in my _head_ anymore.”

Bill clucked his tongue. “Is that _really_ the only improvement?” he asked. “Think about it, Pine Tree. I’ve been cooperative, haven’t I? I’ve been helping you, listening to you - I mean, hell, I’m _bound_ by you. Forced allies, remember?” He reached over and flicked the brim of Dipper’s hat. “Like I wanna wear human clothes and go about _socializing._ But I’m doing it, aren’t I?”

Dipper hesitated, uncertain, and leaned away from Bill.

“The next few weeks are going to be _very_ interesting, kid,” Bill pressed on. “And I think we’ll want to be on the same page for it, don’t you? Stop being so defensive and just embrace the fact that we’re stuck in this together.”

If it weren’t for Bill, none of this would be happening at all. Everything was his fault. All the same, he was _right,_ wasn’t he? In his plans of world domination and Dipper’s plans to foil _Bill’s_ plans, they’d gotten tangled together in a big mess of confused threads. Their circumstances had forced them into a position where they had no choice but to rely upon each other.

All he had to do was turn Bill over to Ford and let him be destroyed. It would be that easy to end this all.

Even still, Dipper didn’t have the heart to do it. He didn’t _want_ to do it. He saw something in Bill, some sort of potential or positivity or _something,_ and he didn’t want that destroyed.

“I really _am_ sentimental,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“And that’s what I adore about ya, kid,” Bill laughed. “Your emotions always get in the way of everything! Even having me killed! Gotta admire a guy who risks it all for someone he hates.”

Dipper snorted. “Yeah, well…” Without really having a thought to complete, he went quiet, staring out over the trees and at the water tower in the distance. The new explosion Robbie had drawn on it looked much less like a muffin. His art had improved a lot.

Then, after a few moments of thinking, he spoke up again: “Do you really think Ford could… kill you?”

Bill hummed and leaned back on the palms of his hands. “Yeah, I do,” he said after some deliberation. “He knows a lot about me, about multiple dimensions, about the supernatural… He could make something to obliterate me for good. And if not that, then something to keep me trapped away forever. Arguably worse. I don’t like either option, though.”

“That gun of his blasted a hole through your hat,” Dipper mused. “If it had struck your whole body…”

“Yeah. Guy knows what he’s doing.” Bill snickered and leaned his head back, bangs falling out of the way and revealing the third eye in the center of his forehead. “He knows a lot about me, Pine Tree! Not as much as you, though. Not as much…” he seemed to think for a moment, then sat up again and gave Dipper a very interested look. “Isn’t that fascinating? All it takes is a little bit of extra information, and _you_ don’t want me dead. But Sixer, with all his outdated information and bare hints of my past - he would kill me before ever getting as close as we are now.”

Feeling a bit self-conscious about his decisions, Dipper shrugged and looked away. “Well, y’know… Sentimentality and all. I guess I just see you in… I dunno…” He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I… I see you as kind of human?”

“Hmmm.”

Dipper hesitantly looked back at Bill. “What, not gonna crucify me for saying something like that?”

Bill was looking at him with narrowed eyes, as if scouring his every feature for information Dipper didn’t even know was there. Then he grinned, all shining fangs and exposed gums.

“A human you can _relate to,_ ” he said.

Dipper recoiled as if he’d been struck. “What? _No!_ Not in a million years! You and I aren’t _anything_ alike!”

“Mmhm, that’s what you _say,_ but I think that’s not the truth,” said Bill. “I’m _relatable._ I’m not just some one-note villain who makes your life miserable. I’m a _person_ with _thoughts_ and _feelings._ ”

Dipper reached out and shoved Bill’s arm, causing the demon to let out a horrid cackle. “You’re just still stuck on that one-note thing,” he said with a scowl. “Jesus, Bill, just because I think you have depth -”

“Ah-ha! You admit it!”

“ - _doesn’t_ mean I can relate.” He pulled his legs up so he could wrap his arms around his knees. “I relate to heroic guys with anxiety issues. Not demons hellbent on conquering _God._ ”

Bill looked at him for a moment, then mimicked his pose, hugging his own spindly legs to his chest. “Maybe not that,” he said, “but what about an angry, scared young kid stuck at the bottom of the food chain who discovers he has powers and decides to do something about it?”

“Not even then.” Dipper set his chin on one knee, then glanced at Bill out of the corner of his eye. In his mind, that metaphorical door from before creaked open just a tad bit more.

“You were scared?”

Bill exhaled through his nose and gazed out over the treetops once more. “More than you know, kid,” he said, his voice suddenly soft and quiet. “If I died, the fire of rebellion died with me. Nothing would ever change. And they could have killed me so easily. The Circles, I mean. They could have killed me and everything would have stayed the same.”

Dipper watched him, watched the way his eyes moved as he spoke, the way his chest rose and fell behind his raised legs. And for a moment, he could see a glimmer of what Bill was talking about, something _relatable._

Just as quiet, Dipper said, “You’re afraid to die.”

Bill didn’t look over. He kept his eyes out to the skyline, arms folded and lips pressed into a thin line. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair and the fabric of his vest.

“You would be too, if Ax saw everything you’d ever done as something to be atoned for,” he muttered. “When the clock starts over, what am I gonna be, Pine Tree? _Who_ am I gonna be? And what’s gonna happen to millenia’s worth of information, memories, feelings? Will everything I am just be _gone?_ ”

Dipper watched him a bit longer, then looked out to the horizon as well. “Well… you don’t have to find out yet,” he said.

Bill laughed, low and without much humor.

“I guess we’ll see about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew, okay, so this one took a while. i got a bit stuck with it but now it's here and the story is ready to progress! i've got some great ideas for the upcoming chapters and how everything plays out. thanks for all your support and feedback so far; you guys are the best!


	14. Attraction Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sweater joins the party, and strange new feelings begin to emerge.

Weightlessness. An absence of gravity. _Levitation_.

Dipper poured his energy into those concepts, eyes screwed shut as he concentrated on moving away from the ground. He had done it before, but only just; it was always mere inches at a time, if even that. He had to do better. He had to float like a balloon, a feather on the breeze, like… well, like _Bill_ could -

“Pine Tree.”

Of course... Bill was a horrible mentor sometimes, always interrupting when Dipper needed to focus. Well, not this time! Dipper closed his eyes tighter and doubled down on his thoughts.

“ _Pine Tree._ ”

Bill was never easily dissuaded, but couldn’t he understand that this was important? _He_ was the one insisting upon it! If he would just -

“ _PINE TREE!_ ”

“ _What,_ Bill?!” Dipper snapped, finally opening his eyes to see… the top of Bill’s head?

Tall, lanky Bill, who’d chosen his form’s height specifically to be taller than Dipper?

“You’re floating,” Bill said with a smile.

As soon as Dipper’s wits were about him, he immediately fell back to the ground, knees giving out and sending him down on his back in the grass. He stared up at the sky for a moment, then pushed himself into a sitting position, hesitantly re-adjusting his hat as he looked up at Bill with wide eyes.

“I… I was floating?” he asked, dumbstruck.

“Sure were!” Bill said with a grin. “It was pretty impressive! Really stiff posture, gotta work on that, but you were a whole head above me! That’s like a good foot or so, don’t you think?”

Dipper put a hand to his face, then the top of his hat, and let out a nervous laugh. “Seriously? I… Oh my god, I’m getting the hang of it!” He smiled up at Bill, who was still grinning, looking quite proud.

“My little Pine Tree is growing up,” he said fondly, holding out a hand to help Dipper off of the ground. “Don’t start speculating on your next power just yet, though. You’ve still got some levitation practice to get in.”

Dipper looked at the proffered hand with some trepidation, then took a deep breath and grabbed it. Bill lifted him to his feet with ease.

“Levitation isn’t gonna help me close the barrier,” he said as he pulled his hand back and absently rubbed it on his jeans. “It _is_ really cool, though.”

Bill gave Dipper a hearty slap on the back, surprising him and making him step forward. “Kid, _every_ power is important! The more you get the hang of each individual thing you can do, the more powerful you become.”

“How many times do I have to tell you _not_ to touch me?” Dipper asked, exasperated, as he rolled his shoulders. “It’s been at least once a day.”

Bill shrugged. “I’m handsy,” he said. “Maybe it’d be better for us if you got used to it.”

“No!” Dipper exclaimed, easily riled by Bill’s flippant disregard for his comfort. “No, that isn’t how this works, Bill!” He jabbed a finger inches from the demon’s face. Bill looked down at it, mildly surprised. “I have personal space issues, and, and you need to respect them!”

Bill looked up from Dipper’s finger with a raised eyebrow. “Kinda ballsy of you,” he said, “considering I almost broke your finger last time you did that.”

Dipper yanked his hand back. “Yeah, well…” He held his hands together and looked away. “I beat you up as soon as you arrived in the real world. You know I could do it again.”

With a chuckle, Bill walked around Dipper and cocked his head until their eyes met. “ _Or_ you trust me not to hurt you anymore.”

Before Dipper could retort in any meaningful way beyond backing away from Bill, a voice from the back door called out to them: “Yoo-hoo! Boys!”

They both turned to watch as Mabel strode towards them, holding a conspicuous baby-blue bundle.

“Heya, Shooting Star!” Bill greeted enthusiastically. “Whatcha got here? Is it for me?”

“You bet!” Mabel flipped her ponytail and held the bundle close to her chest. “After two-and-a-half days of _tireless_ work, your new sweater is done.”

“Well, show us,” Dipper said as he put his hands on his waist.

Mabel stuck her tongue out at him. “Let me introduce it first!” she insisted.

Bill clapped his hands together as Dipper rolled his eyes.

With a loud and deliberate throat-clear, Mabel repositioned the bundle before unrolling it with a flourish, announcing, “It’s a _boy!_ ”

The main color was, indeed, baby blue; the cuffs, hem, and collar were more of a periwinkle. Embroidered across the chest were several puffy white clouds, a crescent moon, and dark blue cursive script reading “ _Dream Boy_ ”.

Bill clapped his hands to his mouth as Dipper shook his head.

“I _love_ it,” Bill whispered.

“I knew you would,” Mabel said as she peered around the sweater. “Isn’t it adorable? And it hints to your true, horrible nature without directly referencing anything anyone would recognize!”

“Let me try it on!” Bill said excitedly. “Pine Tree, if you would?” Before Dipper could object, Bill was handing over his hat and beginning to take off his gloves.

“Woah, woah, not here!” Dipper said. “Dude, we’re -”

“In a private backyard, with trees surrounding us for miles,” Bill finished as he piled his gloves on top of his hat in Dipper’s hands. “Relax, kid. It’s not like I’m gonna take off my pants!”

Dipper grumbled uncomfortably as Bill’s bow tie was added to the pile.

“I half expected you to just throw his stuff on the ground,” said Mabel as she stood next to her brother. “You two getting along better?”

“I guess,” Dipper sighed as Bill went about struggling out of his tight vest. “I mean, what am I supposed to do? When Pacifica and I had to work together, we… y’know, made it work. We were civil.”

“And then you became friends,” Mabel pointed out.

Dipper scowled. “That’s not about to happen,” he said as Bill dumped the vest into his arms. “As much as he might want it to… for some reason. He won’t stop bringing it up.”

“Well, he acted like he and Grunkle Ford were literal best friends forever, didn’t he?” Mabel asked. “It’s easier to take advantage of your friends than your enemies.”

“You know I’m standing right here, right?” Bill asked as he went about unbuttoning his dress shirt. “Ignoring me won’t just magically make me unable to hear your very hurtful words.”

“Like you actually care,” Dipper scoffed. “You know I don’t trust you.”

“I do care!” Bill insisted as he opened the shirt and began sliding it off of his shoulders. “My intentions with you are _nothing_ like my intentions were with Sixer. Have you considered that I just enjoy having friends?”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “You _don’t,_ ” he said. “You’re an egomaniacal narcissist who doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”

“I take offense to that.” Bill dropped his shirt onto the pile in Dipper’s arms. “Pine Tree, after everything I’ve told you, everything I’ve _shared_ -”

“Most of it because of the honesty deal.”

“Not all of it!” Bill put his hands on his narrow hips and frowned. “And here I thought you were starting to understand me, kid. _Clearly_ you don’t - _What_ , Shooting Star?!”

Dipper jumped a little at Bill’s sudden outburst, then turned to look at his sister, who was… staring. At Bill.

“Uh, Mabel?”

“Sorry,” Mabel said, holding her hands up. “I just… You, uh, made an interesting body for yourself.”

Bill stared at her for a second, then grinned wide and puffed out his chest. “Oh? _Impressed,_ are we?”

Dipper made a face as Mabel laughed and said, “Uh, no, more like… horrified.”

Bill frowned again, then looked down at himself. “Okay, so I’m a bit on the thin side, but I’m not _emaciated._ This form isn’t bad!”

“No, it’s not,” said Mabel, earning a hard stare from her brother. “That’s the horrifying thing. You don’t look like a monster. I mean, you _do,_ with the weird eyes and the shark teeth and whatever, but…”

“He doesn’t look good,” Dipper said flatly.

The scary thing, however, was that Mabel was actually right.

Bill’s torso was, predictably, sort of triangle-shaped, with broad shoulders and the narrow waist Dipper had noticed before. Then there was a slight amount of tone to his muscles, _just_ enough to define where they were. Coupled with long, slender legs and a _very_ interesting face, Bill was…

Dipper’s brain screeched to a halt, face going blank.

_Oh god._

_Not this again._

“Well, he’s not a dream-boat or anything, but he’s got like… I dunno, a swimmer’s body,” Mabel was saying as she stepped away from Dipper and walked around Bill. As she reached his back, her face lit up. “Ooh - what’s this?”

Bill turned back to look at her, allowing Dipper a moment to look utterly horrified while nobody was watching. It was hard enough dealing with this the past few years, on and off as he grew and met new people, but now… Why _Bill?_ Dipper wanted to bury his face in his hands, but they were full of clothes - _Bill’s_ clothes. Maybe he _would_ just drop them on the ground…

“Ya like it?” Bill asked with a grin. “My own personal touch to all humanoid forms I can take, and some non-humanoid ones!”

“You sure you want to carry around the code to defeating you on your back?” Mabel asked, reaching out as if to touch and then pulling away at the last moment.

Bill shrugged. “It’s an important part of my identity. And it’s not like you guys existed until _this_ lifetime. Or, well… Hm. Not entirely true. Anyway, it’s not like it was even used, in the end.” He laughed. “You just locked me away in someone’s brain instead!”

Mabel hummed thoughtfully.

“Hey Pine Tree, wanna see?” Bill asked, and before Dipper could respond, Bill turned around to show off his back and the black tattoo inscribed upon it - the Cipher Wheel.

Dipper cringed and looked away. “Dude, just… put your sweater on,” he said, voice wavering.

Mabel gave him an odd look as Bill frowned and turned back to face him. “Jeez, kid, don’t gotta be so rude,” he said as he took the sweater from Mabel. “You traumatized over that, too?”

Dipper kept his eyes off of Bill, but in his periphery he could tell Mabel was giving him a hard stare. _Oh god,_ he thought, _please tell me she can’t see the crisis I’m having right now. Am I blushing? Oh fuck, what if I’m blushing._

Bill pulled the sweater over his head and stuck his arms into the sleeves, then pulled the hem down to look at his new apparel. “Wow, fits like a dream!” he said. “Great job, Shooting Star!”

“Thanks,” Mabel said, absently. “It’s my specialty.”

Dipper finally looked back, pointedly avoiding his sister’s gaze to instead look at Bill. He looked absolutely thrilled. His teeth, large and sharp, glinted in the sunlight. Had Dipper ever actually paid any real attention to those teeth? They were… fascinating. Boldly monstrous, and a bit of a curiosity as well. If he could just get closer and wrench Bill’s jaw open, examine them up close… Examine _all_ of him up close...

Dipper gave his head a hard shake.

 _Why this? Why_ now? _Why_ Bill?

“What’s up, Dipper?” Mabel asked, her expression scrutinizing.

“Nothing,” Dipper said. “It’s… it’s nothing. I’m just dealing with a lot.” If that wasn’t an understatement. It was one thing to randomly find himself flustered and bothered over other boys who _weren’t_ his greatest enemies. Suddenly seeing _Bill_ in an attractive light, though...

“Isn’t he always?” Bill asked with a shrug. “Alright, kid, let’s go throw my clothes somewhere and head out on the town!”

Mabel approached Dipper and, without even a moment of hesitation, took the bundle of Bill’s clothes out of his arms. “I’ll take care of that,” she said. “You two go have fun.”

Dipper gave her a surprised look as Bill said, “No throwing them in the trash! I can’t just conjure up a new shirt. Not anymore, anyway.”

Mabel nudged Dipper with her elbow, whispered “We’ll talk later,” and turned away, headed back for the Shack. Dipper watched her go, helpless and confused.

Bill walked up next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. With no gloves, his hand was noticeably warm.

“So where to first, partner?”

Still looking in the direction his sister had gone, Dipper shrugged Bill’s hand off and took a step away. “Nowhere,” he said, a little more defensive than he’d meant to be. “We still have practicing to do. I mean, I just had a breakthrough, didn’t I? We should focus on that.”

“Kid,” said Bill, exasperated, “you’re gonna _keep_ having breakthroughs. You’re a magical powerhouse just waiting to be tapped into. We can probably slack off a bit and go out on the town for just a while. Besides - weren’t _you_ the one feeling trapped?” He scoffed. “Need I remind you that I’m doing this entirely for _your_ sake in the first place?”

Dipper chewed on his bottom lip and folded his arms over his chest. In his periphery he could see the pastel blue of Bill’s new sweater, and it made him feel nervous. God, did he really need _another_ reason to feel upset around Bill?

“Pine Tree?”

Dipper sighed, then turned to face his enemy once more. It was still _Bill,_ at least. He didn’t suddenly feel head-over-heels just looking at the guy. Sure, the sweater had a nice shape over his frame, but so had his old clothes… Dipper had just never paid attention to that before. He’d never had a moment where he really _could._

Of all times to have some deviant epiphany, it had to be while Bill was undressing.

“...Maybe I do need a break,” Dipper muttered, hands dropping to his sides. “My brain feels all kinds of fucked up.” He rubbed his forehead, then gave Bill a hard look. “We’re _not_ going out on the town, though. Not… not yet. I’m not ready to even try to deal with exposing you to more people.”

Bill shrugged. “Then let’s go somewhere else,” he said. “Anywhere you want. The world is your oyster, and all that.”

Dipper glanced back at the Shack. Why did Mabel have to up and leave like that? Things would have been so much easier if she’d just stuck around… Being alone with Bill all the time was obviously taking its toll. Seeing him as more human wasn’t that bad, but seeing _good_ things in him… especially after a good year or two of managing to stomp down feelings about _normal_ boys…

No one knew about that. Not even Mabel. Dipper was too afraid to say anything, to reveal that something could be even _more_ wrong with him. He still liked girls. He preferred them, even. And it wasn’t like there was anything _wrong_ with being gay, he just… wasn’t. Or he thought he wasn’t. He didn’t think he wanted to actually be with a boy. Just, sometimes they were… attractive.

Bill wasn’t supposed to be, though.

“Where do you keep _going,_ kid?”

Dipper snapped back to Bill, who was giving him a hard stare. “Oh, uh…” He cleared his throat and took a few steps forward, towards the woods and away from Bill’s critical gaze. “Just… I have a lot on my mind.” _And I’m so glad you can’t see it anymore._ “Let’s go. I know a nice place out by the road.”

He took a step, then jerked to a halt.

“You know all the nice places,” said Bill as he came up next to Dipper. “I take it this is your home-away-from-home spot? The one no one can suddenly show up to bother you at?”

Dipper looked at Bill, and the shock and horror on his face must have been apparent, because the demon looked rather taken aback when he noticed.

“Damn, kid, did you just see a ghost or something?”

“You were in my head,” Dipper squeaked.

Bill blinked slowly, scrunched up his nose, and glanced off to the side. “Er… yeah. I was. Did you, uh, forget?”

“How much did you see?” Dipper asked, his voice high-pitched and near-panicked. He clenched his fists as he turned to fully face Bill. “You - you dug around a lot. You said so. How much did you _see?_ ”

“Better question is what I didn’t see,” Bill replied with a scoff. “What, is it just _suddenly_ occurring to you how much I know about you? Relax, kid. I don’t really care about most of it. I skimmed the pages, let’s say.”

Even so, Dipper could not relax. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before. Of _course_ Bill had seen. Even if he’d managed to squash those feelings, Bill was in the forest of his _memories._ He’d have seen every nerve-wracking moment. And in the midst of all the chaos, that fact had entirely slipped Dipper’s mind.

He pulled his hat off with one hand, raking his fingers through his hair with the other.

Bill’s eyes followed the hat, then returned to Dipper. “Looks like it’s really bothering you,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Geez, Pine Tree. You didn’t have anything _that_ incriminating up there. What’s got you in such a tizzy?”

“You really don’t know?” Dipper asked in a quiet voice. “I mean, it’s practically the _worst_ thing that’s ever happened to me…” He paused, then shook his head. “Okay, that’s an exaggeration. _You’re_ the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

 _And now the two are getting all tangled up… Augh! No! Bill is_ not _attractive, or interesting, or any of those things!_

“Ouch,” Bill deadpanned. “Watch it with the insults, kid.” He watched Dipper a moment longer, then moved in some way Dipper couldn’t quite see from the way he was looking down at the ground.

_Of all the things…_

“I think you need to get your mind off of all this,” said Bill, his voice suspiciously playful. “Just promise me one thing, kid: do not, under any circumstances, put that hat back on. Or think about stopping me.”

“Wha -?”

Before Dipper could even look up all the way, Bill wrapped both arms around his middle, held him tight, and jumped up into the air.

The shriek Dipper let out was embarrassing, to say the least. Briefly overwhelmed by the terror of his feet no longer touching the ground, he clung to Bill, his hat fluttering uselessly out of his grip as they soared higher and higher. Bill laughed over his yells, and Dipper thought he said something as well - another reminder to not double down on the binding, lest his levitation fail and they plummet to the ground - but Dipper could barely form a coherent thought as it was.

He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in the fabric of the sweater. It still smelled like Mabel, and was at least somewhat calming, in the smallest way.

High above the treetops, Bill finally stopped and floated in place. He crossed one leg over the other, then pried Dipper away from his body and set him down on his knee. Dipper, trembling like a leaf, pawed at Bill’s shoulders with his eyes still shut before taking them both in a death grip.

“Open your eyes, Pine Tree,” Bill coaxed.

“Like _hell,_ ” Dipper hissed in reply. “What are you _thinking?!_ You can’t just - just -”

“You’ve survived worse,” Bill said with a laugh. “You’re not in any danger! Just open ‘em.”

“I swear, if this is just some, some _ploy_ to get me closer to you -” Dipper exhaled hard through his teeth, then opened his eyes, one at a time.

Gravity Falls sprawled before them, a glorious valley of mystery and wonder. The town itself seemed but a small hub nestled in the center of miles upon miles of trees, occasionally broken up by clearings or rivers or Corduroy logging camps. It was truly a sight to behold.

“Levitation is good for a lot of things,” said Bill, his voice a stark and grating reminder that he was still a part of the scene. “Getting a bird’s-eye-view of a place is one of ‘em. Then you just zip on down to wherever you wanna go.” He set a hand on Dipper’s waist, then used the other to point out a section of forest. “Lookie there! That’s where the weird dinosaur almost ate you.”

“Would have eaten you too,” Dipper said, his voice unsteady. “You were stuck in my head at the time, remember?” He sighed, resigning himself to the extended contact with Bill instead of trying to wriggle free of the demon’s touch. If only he could properly levitate on his own… The hand on his waist made his stomach churn, and having to hold onto Bill for dear life wasn’t any more pleasant. He didn’t feel like ordering Bill down, though, at least not anymore - the view actually was very nice (even if his heart was still pounding a mile a minute from their sudden flight).

Bill chuckled and shifted his legs, causing Dipper to grip him tighter for fear of falling. “Now then - you still worried about whatever I saw in your head? Or do you have better things to think about?”

“Anything is better than… Yeah,” Dipper replied, fidgeting. “Uh. Thanks, I guess. I mean, you’re touching me way too much and you scared the shit out of me, but - thanks.”

Bill’s fangs glinted in the sunlight as he grinned. “We’re a team, Pine Tree,” he said in earnest. “I’ve got to look out for you.”

“You do a piss-poor job of it.”

“I could drop you, you know.”

Dipper looked at Bill’s face, into his eyes. The breeze from so high up was ruffling his hair, making his right eye easier to see and even offering a glimpse of the third centered on his forehead. It also ruffled the high collar of his sweater, the periwinkle blue a stark contrast to Bill’s vivid yellow hair. It really did change so much about his appearance. Gone were the reminders of who he really was, the monster that had chased Dipper in his nightmares; now was the age of an angular, sharp demon-man who looked on the verge of laughter even as he threatened Dipper’s life.

An unbidden half-smile graced Dipper’s face.

“You won’t, though.”

Bill snorted and looked out to the horizon. “I’d be free of you, y’know,” he said. Then he sighed. “ _But_ Ax did say I would need you. Can’t imagine what use you’d be to me dead.”

Dipper hummed. “Yeah. I can’t imagine I’d be good for anything as a corpse.” He began to relax by degrees, his death-grip turning into more of a firm hold on Bill’s bony shoulders. So much was visible from their height; so many amazing things, so many fond (and not-so-fond) memories. And maybe there really was nothing to worry about. Maybe he got himself worked up over something stupid.

Bill looked around at the ground far below, then back up at Dipper. “So, hey,” he began, grinning again. “I noticed how flustered you got when I was changing. Am I actually attractive to you, kid?”

Dipper contemplated throwing himself to the ground below.

* * *

As the days had passed, one thing remained the same: Ford insisted upon injecting Bill with his sleep serum once Dipper announced it was time for bed. Nothing Dipper said could convince him it _wasn’t_ the right thing to do. Bill was too dangerous, he said; he would remove the hat in Dipper’s sleep and, no longer bound, wreak havoc as he had originally intended.

Dipper knew he would be a fool to defend Bill against such an accusation. Doing so would imply he trusted Bill - or reveal what had happened earlier that day, when Bill had taken advantage of his unbound state to simply get Dipper’s mind off of things (a strange move he couldn’t quite get over). No, it was better to just let Ford do his thing. The less defending Dipper did on Bill’s behalf, the better.

So into the living room they would go, because the basement was too low but Dipper didn’t want Ford to see the sleeping bag in the attic. Bill would immediately become drowsy and just barely manage to climb the stairs before either falling onto Dipper’s bed or actually being considerate and crawling into the bag. He never managed to take his own shoes off, something Dipper continued to do for him, much to the chagrin of Mabel who often watched as he did so before leaving the room to change.

Concessions, Dipper would remind her, should she ask. He was making concessions. Being fair with Bill in the hopes that the favor would be returned - and thus far, it had been, to some degree or another. Bill had remained cooperative. Amicable, even.

A loud snore from the demon in question startled Dipper from his thoughts and prompted Waddles to stand up from his place by Mabel’s bed to come investigate. He snuffled at Bill’s hair for a moment before Dipper waved him away, pushing him back to Mabel’s side of the room.

“What, afraid he’s gonna _wake Bill up?_ ” asked Mabel as she re-entered the room in her pajamas. “That shouldn’t be a problem for a _variety_ of reasons.”

Dipper scoffed and sat back on his bed, then shifted his weight away from his bandaged arm. “I’m just trying to keep him away from Bill _in general,_ ” he insisted. “Do you really want your pig all up in Bill’s business? Something might rub off.”

Mabel shook her head, then walked over to the nightstand to retrieve the bandages and cleaning fluids left there. “Dip, you gotta change the dressing on that thing,” she said, referring to Dipper’s bite wound. She stepped around Bill and sat down at Dipper’s side. “Lemme see.”

With a wince and some reluctance, Dipper offered his arm to his sister. “It hurts,” he whined. “Changing it, I mean. Or messing with it at all…” He sucked in a breath through his teeth as Mabel began to unwrap the sullied bandages.

“Yeah, no wonder,” she said as she inspected his arm. The deep wounds had begun to heal, but only just; they were still nasty, though thankfully not infected due to rigorous cleansing. “Any deeper and you woulda needed stitches. In fact, they probably wouldn’t hurt…”

“No stitches.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you big crybaby.” Mabel tsk’d and began cleaning the wound, doing a fairly good job of maintaining a calm visage even as Dipper hissed and groaned at the pain. “I can’t believe he did this to you,” she murmured as she set aside the bottles and began to re-wrap Dipper’s arm. “I mean, I _can,_ but… having you two working together before this even healed…”

“...Not like I didn’t hurt him just as bad,” said Dipper, frowning down at his arm. “He just… bounced back faster. The whole thing was a violent mess.”

“Don’t defend him!” Mabel said, squeezing Dipper’s wrist. “You really need to stop, Dipper. It’s like every time we talk about him, you’ve got something new to say about his _character._ He’s getting to you.”

Dipper looked away, first at Bill, and then to the opposite wall. “Look, I’m just trying to be _amicable,_ ” he said with a sigh. “I still hate him, okay? He freaks me out, he upsets me, I haven’t forgiven him for anything he’s done… I’m just trying to be fair. As long as he doesn’t step out of line -”

“Dipper, he possessed Grunkle Stan!” Mabel exclaimed. “And then he blackmailed you with Grunkle Stan’s _life!_ He manipulated you, used you, _abused_ you -”

“And I haven’t forgiven him!” Dipper gave Mabel a hard look, then pulled his arm back and gently touched the bandages with his opposite hand. “I haven’t. Really. It’s just…” He trailed off, unsure of how to explain how he felt - to her _or_ himself. Bill was the enemy, Dipper knew that, but at the same time, Bill was… an ally.

Everything had happened so fast. It was hard to make sense of it all.

Mabel looked at her brother for a moment, then folded her hands in her lap and looked across the room.

“I think I know how to get rid of him,” she said.

Dipper snapped to attention. “ _What?_ ” he asked, incredulous.

Mabel looked back at him intently. “He carries it everywhere with him, Dipper,” she went on. “On his back. The _Cipher wheel._ It’s how we were going to defeat him originally, remember?”

Visions of Weirdmageddon danced before Dipper’s eyes. The Fearamid. Bill’s throne. Standing in the circle with the people he’d come to know. The flow of energy he’d felt…

He shook his head to rid himself of the images.

“I know it’s hard to think about,” Mabel said, reaching over to give Dipper’s shoulder a firm squeeze. “I’m sorry. But I just thought of it today - What if we assembled the wheel again? We could send Bill back to the Nightmare Realm, or destroy him, or -”

“We don’t know what it does,” Dipper interrupted. “I won’t destroy him, Mabel. Not… not on purpose.” The words felt thick and heavy in his mouth.

Mabel sighed. “Dipper, _please._ I bet someone knows what it does. I mean, you could ask him, right? I’m sure he’d tell you. From what you’ve said, he seems like kind of a blabbermouth when it comes to you.”

Dipper looked down at Bill, sleeping soundly by his feet. It was true, wasn’t it? The longer they’d been together, the more open Bill was. Just the other day he admitted to his fear of death. What else would he admit if Dipper simply asked?

“I’ll get everyone together,” Mabel said, squeezing Dipper’s shoulder again. “You don’t have to worry about that part. Just get him to tell you what it actually does, and if it’ll send him away, we can finally be rid of him. Then everyone will be happy.”

Dipper continued looking at Bill, at his relaxed face and gaping, drooling, snoring mouth. _Everyone but you,_ he thought. _Am I really okay with that?_

He didn’t know.

“...I’ll ask,” he relented, and Mabel pulled him into a tight hug.

“There’s still hope for you, bro-bro,” she said before kissing his cheek. “This is the right thing, I promise. He’s just been funkin’ up your mind with all his weird jank.”

“English, please,” said Dipper, earning a laugh from his sister and a small smile from him. He made a show of wiping his cheek with the heel of his palm, then leaned away from Mabel and cocked his head. “Oh, uh, by the way…”

Mabel stopped laughing. “Oh no,” she said. “What now? Did something happen today?”

“Bill wants to go out to lunch,” said Dipper, avoiding Mabel’s question. “He first brought it up when the sweater was suggested. I figured… I mean, it wouldn’t hurt, right? You avoid him all the time, you could probably use some one-on-one time with him.”

Mabel gave Dipper a wide-eyed stare. “...Dip, in what world would I need one-on-one time with _Bill freakin’ Cipher?_ ” she asked. “I mean, he’d probably just stuff me into another bubble.”

Dipper frowned. “He’s stuck with us for now,” he said. “It’s a chance to… y’know, study the enemy. You may as well get to know him the way he is now. Or the way he’s acting, I guess. Familiarize yourself with him outside of some weird love of sweaters.”

“The only redeemable thing about him so far,” Mabel scoffed. “Alright, I’m game. We can go tomorrow. Dunno how we’ll explain it to Grunkle Ford, though…”

The twins went quiet for a moment, both contemplating the idea. Bill continued to snore away beneath them, and Waddles, having fallen asleep, joined in.

“He doesn’t necessarily _have_ to know,” Dipper said.

“I mean, he doesn’t have to know _everything,"_  Mabel added.

“Excluding key details isn’t _technically_ lying,” finished Dipper.

Both nodded, and then Mabel pushed herself up off of the bed and grabbed the medical supplies. “Okay, so we’ll let him know that we’re taking Bill out, and when he assumes it’s for training purposes, we just won’t correct him,” she said.

“Right,” Dipper agreed. “Sounds great to me.”

As Mabel busied herself with putting the supplies away and turning off the light, Dipper glanced down at Bill again. A thought occurred to him - would Mabel have answers for why he might feel the way he did about Bill’s appearance? He’d avoided ever telling her about his feelings before, but now…

He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. She’d skin him alive if he admitted he was attracted to the horrible form Bill had built for himself. It wasn’t like he meant for it to happen, and it wasn’t like he liked Bill as a _person_ (or demon, or whatever he was), but even still… She was so worried about Bill’s influence on him as it was. And in truth, he was worried, too.

Dipper sighed, then flopped down on the bed and pulled the covers up over himself. “Good night, Mabel,” he said softly into the darkness.

 _Good night to you too, Bill,_ he thought, guilty for doing so but compelled all the same.

“Night, Dip,” said Mabel as she turned over, and Bill continued to snore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK SO LONG I'M SO SORRY
> 
> but it's been properly beta'd and worked over (and over and over and over)and i think it's ready to be shared! i hope you all enjoy, thanks for the sweater ideas from before and make sure to let me know what you think of everything!


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